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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29773905">and you can not take it back</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/everyshootingstar/pseuds/everyshootingstar'>everyshootingstar</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Artist!Joe, Firefighter AU, Firefighter!Nicky, Found Family, Grief/Mourning, Happy Ending, M/M, Major Illness, Mental Health Issues, Minor Character Death, discussions of racism, house fire, procedural fire calls, side pairing: Andy/Quynh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:26:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>35,897</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29773905</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/everyshootingstar/pseuds/everyshootingstar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p><i>The coughing fit takes him by surprise and he feels himself being guided to sit up, a firm hand in the center of his back, resting there, “Breathe for me, just breathe through it,” Nile says and when Joe finally manages to crack his eyes open (and god how much it hurts even in the dim lights of the…ambulance?) he sees a young woman sitting across from him holding a small bottle of water with a straw in it. “Drink this when you’re ready,” she says, pressing it into his shaking hands.</i> </p>
<p>Joe's an artist living in a small town, struck with grief and not ready to quite move on. When a fire threatens his livelihood, he realizes that he has more people in his corner than he thought. </p>
<p>With the help of Booker and a ragtag group of first responders, he learns the value of found family and how it correlates with happiness and recovery.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>181</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>The Old Guard Big Bang</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>and you can not take it back</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Wow, this has been an absolutely incredible journey for me, honestly. i started this fic in November and jokingly thought it'd be like just over 12.5k and then I got covid in December and couldn't write for a whole damn month and then work decided to kick my ass and I finally finished this thing literally a few days before posting it haha. </p>
<p>This fic wouldn't be anything without the lovely discord server(s) (there's two of them hhh yes) listening to me vent about my woes, my absolutely fantastic artist <a href="https://applekale.tumblr.com">Apple</a> &lt;3 and my wonderful friend Cece who graciously agreed to beta/read over this monster for me while I hastily finished in these last few days. </p>
<p>A few notes: </p>
<p>I've been wanting to write this fic for...god. So long. I've tried to do it in every fandom I've ever been in and could never muster up the courage to finish it. Nicky the firefighter is 100% based on things I experienced as a firefighter/first responder living in a tiny southern town in the middle of nowhere. The town is a real place and as such, the only things really named are actual chains like Walmart and Waffle House to uh. Protect my privacy.   </p>
<p>The tag 'discussions of racism' exists because this is set in a very small, southern town that I lived in and didn't have the best opinions on people who were different. There's no explicit racism, just Nile, Booker, and Joe and at one point Nicky, mentioning that it Happens. </p>
<p>the 'major illness' and 'minor character death' tags refer to a character close to Joe, none of the ensemble and the death doesn't happen on screen, it's just something mentioned a few times over the course of the fic.  if i need to add any other tag about this then let me know :) </p>
<p>'Mental Health Issues' tag is there because Joe does experience two traumatic events which over the course of the fic he does work through them.  There's no angst tag because I don't really qualify mental health things as 'angsty' its more of just a personal battle that one has to work through in order to come back out on top. Please know I'm not pulling any of this out of my ass, I promise. Joe's realizations and such are all based off of the ones I made when dealing with the same exact things. </p>
<p>I believe that covers all the tag notes. Uh, final note is, the title comes from Walk The Moon's <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BJm41pNOzB4">Tightrope</a> in which the whole lyric is 'You speak your mind, and you can not take it back'. Big thanks to all my pals in the discord for the title suggestions (all of them were fire puns haha) and also to Apple for suggesting "Untitled Big Bango" (my file name for this monster). </p>
<p>Anyway, this work couldn't have been done without all of you guys so I appreciate you &lt;3 and I hope you enjoy the final product :)  (if there's anything wonky please let me know cause after it was beta'd i still went back and changed/added stuff so hhhh) </p>
<p>you can find me on tumblr @ <a href="https://boulangerlee.tumblr.com">boulangerlee</a></p>
<p>Bigger versions of the art can be found <a href="https://applekale.tumblr.com/post/644479540670971904/here-is-my-entry-for-oldguardbigbang2021-it-was">here</a>, pls go there and show Apple some love because these pieces of art have gone beyond my expectation. I <i>cry</i> looking at them okay.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The soft hiss of <em>something</em> was the first thing he became aware of, the strange pressure of something across his cheeks, in his <em>nose</em> was the next and he made a face as sound rushed back to him all at once—the loud sound of <em>yelling </em>of <em>water </em>and the steady beeping of a heartrate monitor.</p>
<p>And just like that, it all rushed back to him—</p>
<p>“Hey, steady,” A low voice says quietly above the sudden uptick of the monitor, “Don’t stress yourself out, alright? My name’s Nile and I’m treating you for smoke inhalation; doesn’t seem to be too bad, though the tumble out the window you did bruised your arm up a bit but again, nothing too serious. Can I get your name?”</p>
<p>The words were at the tip of his tongue but refused to move past there and he realizes, somewhat distantly, his throat aches and so does his <em>arm </em>and he hasn’t opened his eyes since he’s become aware of everything, “I—”</p>
<p>The coughing fit takes him by surprise and he feels himself being guided to sit up, a firm hand in the center of his back, resting there, “Breathe for me, just breathe through it,” Nile says and when Joe finally manages to crack his eyes open (and god how much it <em>hurts </em>even in the dim lights of the…ambulance?) he sees a young woman sitting across from him holding a small bottle of water with a straw in it. “Drink this when you’re ready,” she says, pressing it into his shaking hands.</p>
<p>Joe does; there’s a blanket wrapped around him and he’s both cold and impossibly warm and as he wakes up more, the scent of fire is thick and heavy and cloying, catching in his throat as he swallows down several mouthfuls of water.</p>
<p>Nile doesn’t press for any more information for a while, her hand a steady pressure on his back as he drinks until there’s no more water in the bottle and then she takes it from him and disposes of it.</p>
<p>“I’m Joe,” he finally says, wincing at the pain, at how much his throat <em>hurts </em>and how horrible his voice <em>sounds </em>like this, all rough and ragged, like he’d been drinking concrete.</p>
<p>“Joe,” Nile says with a little smile, something relieved taking over her features, “Glad you’re safe now, Joe.” She pulls her hand away and sits back, pulling a clipboard into her lap, “Can you give me an idea of what happened? When we got to the scene, firefighters found you outside of your bedroom window, face down.”</p>
<p> Joe blinks a few times, processing her words, a frown crossing his mouth, “I’m not sure,” he says. “I don’t remember much beyond…” he trails off.</p>
<p>Nile places her clipboard down, reaching out to adjust the blanket over Joe’s shoulders, “Start from where you remember then,” she says. “At the beginning. When you first realized something was wrong. From there we can kind of figure out what happened based on that plus what dispatch tell us.” She smiles encouragingly before grabbing another small bottle of water and a straw. “Take all the time you need to tell me,” she says. “Right now, the firefighters are working on making sure your house is put out, so all you need to worry about is resting and telling me what you remember.”</p>
<p>Joe glances over towards the back of the ambulance, where the doors are cracked open just a little and beyond that, he can smell smoke and fire and wet wood—</p>
<p>“Do I need to close the door all the way?” Nile asks, cutting off his thoughts, “While you were out, I was helping a few of the firefighters who’d gotten a little too close without the right gear,” she says with a little smile. “But I’m sure they’re good for now. Smelling everything and hearing them probably isn’t too good for you, huh?” she doesn’t wait for his answer, just stands up and moves to the back of the ambulance, pulling the door closed and suddenly, all is quiet except for the sound of oxygen and the steady beep of his heart rate.</p>
<p>Nile comes to sit back down across from the gurney, “Alright now,” she says, picking the clipboard back up, “Whenever you’re ready, Joe.”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>
  <em>Joe choked, sitting up in bed as the thick acrid smell of smoke filled his lungs, making him cough into his shirtsleeve. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Fire. His house was on fire. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He grappled with the blankets tangled around his legs, kicking them off as he rolled with heavy limbs, landing with a loud <strong>thunk </strong>on the carpeted floor. His shoulder hit his nightstand and with a clatter, the entire table fell onto its side. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The smoke wasn't as bad down here, and suddenly, he was grateful for all those new homeowner articles he'd read about leaving the bedroom door shut at night while sleeping. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>With clumsy fingers, he managed to unlock his phone, quickly hitting the emergency call button as he pushed himself up onto his elbows and knees, a slow but sure attempt at a crawl towards the window furthest away from the door.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>"911, what's your emergency?"  </em>
</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>“And that’s all you remember?” Nile asks patiently, making careful notes on the clipboard. “Dispatch managed to keep you on the phone for about ten minutes before the line went dead and we arrived here, and by we, I mean fire and rescue, about ten minutes after that, and that’s when we found you outside of your home, completely unconscious.”</p>
<p>Joe makes a quiet sort of noise, taking a long drink of water, “Will I have to go to the hospital?” he asks finally, cradling the bottle between his two hands.</p>
<p>Nile hums softly, scribbling a few more things down before placing her clipboard to the side, “Well, you were passed out due to smoke inhalation, but you’re awake now, you don’t have any really major injuries other than some bruises and a sore throat. I won’t force you to go, but if you want to go, we’ll take you.”</p>
<p>“I think I’d rather not go,” Joe says, and he must notice the look on Nile’s face, because he sighs, “But if I start to feel worse, I’ll definitely call an ambulance.”</p>
<p>Nile’s grin is bright, and she reaches across to gently pat Joe’s shoulder, “I’d appreciate that,” she says. “I’m sure you know that you’ll have a sore throat for a few days at least, and if the bruises hurt, ice them and take some ibuprofen to help with the swelling.”</p>
<p>Joe nods and all of a sudden he feels extremely tired and achy, “How long do you think it’ll take them to finish? I mean. I can’t imagine anything’ll be salvageable and I’ll have to couch surf for a few days until my insurance goes through on repairs,” he sighs heavily. “What even caused the fire? Or do you know?”</p>
<p>Nile smiles apologetically, “In my experience, it’ll take at least another few hours,” she says. “And as for that, I’m not sure. My first priority was you when I arrived here and once we managed to get you inside here and hooked up to some oxygen, I’ve mostly been here since then.”</p>
<p>A nod, “Fair enough,” he says, leaning his head back against the wall behind him, eyes fluttering closed.</p>
<p>Nile doesn’t say anything after that, and soon, the sound of Nile’s pen scratching across paper fills the space around them.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>After some time, there’s a steady knock on the side of the ambulance and the secondary door opens, “Hey Nile.”</p>
<p>Joe’s eyes flutter open at the sound of a new voice, soft and low and accented and Joe blinks against the dim lights until the figure comes into focus.</p>
<p>“Nicky, hey,” Nile says, looking up from her paperwork, scooting over on the bench and patting the area beside her. “Andy finally let you off hose duty?” she asks teasingly as he—<em>Nicky, </em>moves to sit beside her.</p>
<p>Nicky moves further inside, and now that he’s hunched over, more or less in the dim light, Joe can finally <em>see </em>him.</p>
<p>Dressed in a gray t-shirt and jeans and sturdy black boots, his arms are streaked with black soot and his palms are a little red but not quite rubbed raw and somewhat distantly, Joe’s struck by how <em>pretty </em>he looks, even with sweat matted and soot filled hair.</p>
<p>“She wanted me to come and see if you needed any help,” Nicky says, managing to sit down on the bench without jostling the gurney too much. “And uh. Have you look at my hands? I guess?” he adds the last bit on as an afterthought and then, that’s when he realizes Joe is awake and aware. “Oh hello,” he says with a hesitant smile. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were awake.”</p>
<p>Joe waves a hand, “It’s fine,” he says, wincing as he speaks, bringing the water up to take another slow sip of it, “I’m just resting in here until the fire’s out and then I can figure out what my next step is.”</p>
<p>Nicky tilts his head a little, “Well, they’re just making sure all the hotspots are out now,” he says. “Anything else will have to simmer overnight, unfortunately. I don’t think you’ll be allowed back into the house until at least tomorrow.” He scrubs at a spot on his wrist, “Well, actually, I don’t think the house will be structurally sound enough for you to go back into it immediately.”</p>
<p>“Fuck,” Joe says with a little groan, pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders, “And since it’s the weekend I can’t call my insurance adjuster either.” He sighs, “Uh, did you manage to get my wallet out at least? I kind of tumbled out a window and knocked myself out so I didn’t really have a chance to grab it.”</p>
<p>“Once all the hotspots are out, someone’ll go inside and do one more sweep, just let us know what room it’s in and someone’ll grab it for you.” Nicky says as Nile stands and grabs a bottle of disinfectant and some cotton balls. “Oh no, Nile, I’m fine, I promise.”</p>
<p>She fixes him with a raised eyebrow and he holds his hands out with a sigh, palm up and in the light, Joe can see how the skin is red and irritated, how there’s a shallow cut across the center of one.</p>
<p>“Nicky,” Nile says with a sigh, “Did you give your gloves to Jackson again?” she asks disapprovingly, “You know Andy doesn’t want anyone trading gear and Jackson’s just fucking with you cause you’re new.” She pours some disinfectant onto a cotton ball and carefully cleans Nicky’s palms. “When you start taking your classes, you know you’re not gonna be able to get away with running hoses on scenes without gloves, right? In fact, if you <em>want </em>to get certified to go <em>inside </em>you’ll have to wear all of your gear.”</p>
<p>Nicky groans, “I <em>know,</em>” he says, “But Jackson wasn’t messing with me this time,” he winces a little when Nile swipes the cotton covered in disinfectant across the cut, “His gloves had a hole across the palm of one of them and he was going inside to take over for Nate. I can’t go inside yet, so I let him use my gloves since I somehow ended up with a pair that’s not <em>too </em>messed up.”</p>
<p>Nile shoots him a sympathetic look, “Ah,” she says, “Your department’s still getting the short end of the budget, huh?” she asks as she stands to dispose of the cotton and bloody gauze.</p>
<p>“Mhm,” Nicky mumbles, keeping his palms turned up, “Still the short budget, still fighting to get more funding. Andy’s saying we’ll get something soon, but she has to go to the council first to propose a budget increase for our department since we’re smaller.”</p>
<p>Nile hums, focusing on wrapping a bandage carefully over Nicky’s injured palm, “I see,” she says. “Well, Andy sent you in to see if I needed any help, right?” she asks as she finishes taping the bandage securely. “Do you remember your first responder training?”</p>
<p>Nicky worries his lower lip between his teeth, “A little,” he admits, “Why?” he asks, somewhat dubiously.</p>
<p>Nile grins at him, “I need to go out and check in with Andy, you wanna get his vitals for me one last time before we release him?” she asks as she holds out a blood pressure cuff and stethoscope.</p>
<p>Rolling his eyes, Nicky takes the cuff and scope from her, “Of course,” he says, though he’s smiling the whole time as he stands up and kneels by the gurney Joe’s on.</p>
<p>“Hi,” Nicky says softly as the side door to the ambulance opens and closes, “I’m going to check your blood pressure now, alright?”</p>
<p>Joe, who’d been just sitting in the bed without really paying attention to either of them startles a little when he realizes Nicky’s now kneeling beside him. “Uh sure,” he says, holding his arm out. “Where did Nile go?”</p>
<p>As he carefully puts the cuff on Joe’s arm, fitting the head of the stethoscope into the crook of his elbow, he glances up at Joe, “She went to check in with Andy, our chief, we’re going to be discharging you soon,” he says softly and then he goes quiet for a moment, carefully listening as he mentally records Joe’s blood pressure.</p>
<p>“How bad is it?” Joe asks once Nicky’s removed the cuff and is seated across from him once again.</p>
<p>Nicky hums, picking the clipboard up to write it down, “It’s slightly elevated still but not enough to be a concern. You’ve just had a very traumatic thing happen to you, it’s to be expected.” He looks up at Joe, “Do you have any questions? I don’t really have as much experience as Nile does, but I did have to take a very rigorous first responder course in order to join the department.”</p>
<p>Joe looks at Nicky, takes in the boyish grin on his face, the places where soot and ash cover his face and neck and has to fight back the urge to call him beautiful out loud, “Well, I was wondering if there was a way I could get someone to take me to a hotel for the night? My friend is using my car and I’m not really up to walking into town to get to a hotel this late at night.”</p>
<p>Nicky’s eyes widen a little, “Oh well, I mean. I could take you? If you don’t mind? I’m sure Andy would let me leave early anyway. I’m not much help at the scene right now.”</p>
<p>Joe glances down at Nicky’s hands and Nicky laughs, “Oh no, not that,” he says, clasping his hands together so the bandage across his palm isn’t visible anymore. “I just mean that most of the stuff now is interior and I can’t go inside the building. I drove here myself, anyway so I have a car and we could just go straight to the hotel.”</p>
<p>“My wallet?” Joe asks finally.</p>
<p>“Ah!” Nicky says, standing up, “Hold on,” he heads over to the door, “Where is it?” he asks.</p>
<p>“Uh, if there’s still a table by the front door it should be there,” he says. “Or on the floor if there’s no table.”</p>
<p>Nicky smiles, “I’ll be right back,” he says and then he’s ducking out of the ambulance.</p>
<p>Nile comes back in a few minutes later, “You look a little shocked,” she comments as she picks up the clipboard from the bench, “But your blood pressure is definitely better now.”</p>
<p>Joe clears his throat, “I think Nicky’s supposed to take me to a hotel?” he says, somewhat confused, “At least, he offered to? I think he’s going to get my wallet now?”</p>
<p>“Ah,” Nile says with a grin. “Nicky’s sort of, like that I guess. Always willing to help people out when he can,” she sits down. “But as long as Andy’s okay with it, I’m fine with it. A good night’s rest and maybe a shower will help you tremendously with how you’re feeling right now. Do you have anyone you can call to talk to while you shower? Since you’ll be in a hotel I’d really prefer if you were able to talk to someone just in case.”</p>
<p>Joe hums, “Yeah, I’ve got a friend I can call. He’s driving back here with my car so he’d definitely appreciate having someone to talk to while on the road,” he says, running his fingers through his hair and wincing at the soot in it. “How long do you think it’ll take for Nicky to get my wallet?”</p>
<p>Nile’s writing something on the clipboard, tearing off a piece of paper and holding it out to Joe, “He should be back soon,” she says. “And here, just in case your friend doesn’t answer, this is my number. If you want to,” she shrugs a little. “No pressure or anything.”</p>
<p>Joe takes the piece of paper and folds it carefully, “I appreciate it, Nile.” He says. “Maybe once I get everything figured out, I can take you out for lunch or something in order to thank you for taking such good care of me?”</p>
<p>Nile looks at Joe, narrows her eyes a little, “Not like a date, right?”</p>
<p>A snort leaves Joe before he can help it and he covers his face with his hands, “No,” he says, voice muffled by his hands. “I’m not into women, Nile.”</p>
<p>At that moment, Nicky chooses to return, closing the door quietly behind him—with more soot and ash covering his skin, but he’s holding Joe’s wallet in his hand triumphantly, “Uh did I miss something?” he asks, a little confused, taking in the way Nile’s covering her mouth and trying to muffle her laughter and Joe’s got his head in his hands.</p>
<p>“We’re fine, Nicky,” Nile finally says, managing to calm down enough to speak. “There was a little misunderstanding but we’re okay now.” She grins, standing up, “I’d love to meet up and get lunch sometime. Bring something by the station when you’ve got your feet back under you, but text me before you do just in case it’s my rotation off.” She pats his shoulder. “Now get out of here and go get some proper rest somewhere other than a gurney in an ambulance.”</p>
<p>====</p>
<p>Nicky’s car is modest and smells less like smoke than Joe expects, considering the man seems to take it to scenes more often than not, if he gathered correctly from Nicky’s quiet rambling as he drives along the winding country roads towards the nearest town.</p>
<p>There’s a red duffle bag taking up the entire backseat and Joe can see the way headlights of cars passing them reflect off of a plastic badge hanging around his rearview mirror—he squints, sees a headshot of Nicky and part of his name, a neatly printed <em>Di Gen</em>—before the car goes dark again and he can’t see anything beyond the beam of Nicky’s headlights.</p>
<p>The silence in the car isn’t overly oppressive and Joe glances over towards Nicky, taking in his profile as he focuses on the road, the strong jaw, the nose, the darkened circles under his eyes—“I hope this trip isn’t out of your way,” he says, cutting off his own train of thought.</p>
<p>Nicky smiles, briefly glancing over at Joe as the car slows down and he turns off onto another backroad, “Not out of the way,” he says. “I live in town, so this is on my way. How long have you lived here?” he asks when there’s nothing but crop fields on either side of them.</p>
<p>“About a year,” Joe says, turning his head so he’s looking out the window instead, “I moved here thinking it’d be quiet. Small town, out of the way. A good place bursting with inspiration. Instead I ended up buying a house with shitty wiring.”</p>
<p>Nicky hums, sounding sympathetic, “I live in the tiny apartment complex in town, the one they just built across from the giant courthouse.” He turns the bright headlights on and out of the corner of his eye, Joe can see Nicky blink his eyes several times, “It’s not much, but I’d much prefer a house, I think. The town is okay, from what I’ve seen so far. A little close minded and I learn way too much about how terrible small towns are to it’s people just because I’m part of a volunteer fire department…” he trails off, “But I like it for the most part. It’s different.”</p>
<p>“So, you volunteer, huh?” Joe finds himself asking when the silence gets to be <em>too much</em>, “I thought all fire departments were paid?”</p>
<p>Something self-deprecating crosses Nicky’s face, “Not in small towns,” he says. “There’s one paid department but you’ve got to <em>know </em>people to join that one. There’s a lot of…” he pauses, frowning a little, “<em>kiss-assing</em> as Andy says, going on at that one.”</p>
<p>“Ah,” Joe says softly, “So, this is a hobby then? The fire fighting?”</p>
<p>“I do it full time, actually,” Nicky says, “On top of working full time as well. It’s a lot, but I like keeping busy and one day I hope I can find a paid department that’s not in this small town. Maybe one outside the town, in the city over from here? Andy said there’s some good ones there.”</p>
<p>As the empty crop fields give away to the beginnings of downtown, Joe hums quietly, “There’s a hotel not too far from here,” he says, shifting in his seat; feeling every bit like he’d fallen from a window not too long ago.</p>
<p>“Ah, the good one in town,” Nicky says with a little, subtle quirk of a smile at the corner of his lips and then he opens his mouth as if to say something, closes it a few times before flexing his fingers on the steering wheel, “Let me know if this is too much, but I could offer you some of my clothes.” He starts, “I carry extra sets with me because of the calls, you know? I don’t want to walk around in disgusting clothes after. Sometimes I don’t get to shower immediately but I find changing into something <em>clean </em>makes me feel at least a little better.” He drums his fingertips against the wheel as he pulls up to a stop light, “I just thought—you’d need something clean to change into. That doesn’t smell like smoke.”</p>
<p>Joe looks over at Nicky again, letting his gaze follow the line of his profile, the patches of soot and dirt across his cheek—and Joe feels an urge to grab a pencil, to <em>draw</em> him, “If you’re okay with parting with a set of clothes, I won’t complain,” he finally settles on. “I only realized once we’d left that I have nothing but the clothes on my back, my wallet and my phone.” He glances down towards the floorboard of the car, where his feet are, covered with thick socks and a pair of flimsy sandals. “I don’t even really have <em>shoes</em>.”</p>
<p>Nicky briefly reaches out and rests his hand on Joe’s arm, warm and grounding, “It’s alright, Joe,” he says softly. “Things will work out.”</p>
<p>The shock of the evening seems to be catching up with him fast if the way he suddenly feels out of breath is any indication, “I guess,” he says, somewhat distantly. “I feel really tired right now. Achy. Appalled. Unsure?”</p>
<p>When Nicky parks the car in the parking lot of a decent looking hotel, he turns to Joe, “Would you like me to go with you?” he asks. “To check into a room, I mean.”</p>
<p>Joe rubs his hands across his face, wincing at the strong smell of smoke on his skin, “I don’t want to take up anymore of your time,” he says. “I should get out of your hair; you’re probably exhausted right now. You’re a very kind man, Nicky.”</p>
<p>Nicky offers Joe a small smile, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the car door, “Let me get those clothes for you,” he says, getting out and moving around to the trunk, giving Joe enough time to pull himself together enough to get out of the car.</p>
<p>“It’s not much,” Nicky’s saying as he passes Joe a plastic bag with a shirt and pants folded in it, “But they’re comfortable. There’s some socks in there too, I keep several packs of new ones in the car just in case.” He shrugs a little, hunching his shoulders, “Are you sure I can’t walk you in to get a room?” he asks again.</p>
<p>Joe opens his mouth to say something, to tell him <em>no</em>, but instead, he closes it and nods once, feeling shaky all over, “I’d like that,” he finally says.</p>
<p>Nicky closes the trunk carefully and moves to stand by Joe’s side, “Let’s go. The sooner you get to your room, the sooner you can get clean, alright?” his voice takes on a <em>tone, </em>something soft and careful, that makes the tiniest amount of tension leave Joe.</p>
<p>A few minutes later, when they’re standing in front of Joe’s first floor hotel room, Joe reaches out, squeezing Nicky’s bicep, “Thank you,” he says quietly. “For staying with me. For bringing me here. I appreciate it.”</p>
<p>Nicky hums quietly, resting his hand over Joe’s, “You’re welcome,” he says. “Get some rest, alright? It’s the weekend and I know you want to get your house back to normalcy as soon as possible,” he murmurs, “But sometimes it’s best to let yourself recuperate after a traumatic experience like this. So. Go easy, alright?” He stands there for another moment longer before letting go of Joe’s hand and stepping back. “I’ll see you around sometime, yeah? We live in a small town so it’s inevitable.”</p>
<p>Joe watches him until Nicky’s in his car and pulling away—and then, he inserts the key into his hotel room door and pushes it open, eager to get the smell of smoke out of his skin.</p>
<p>=====</p>
<p>The next two days find Joe searching through wreckage pulled from the inside of his house for any and all valuable pieces that are salvageable—for the most part, the damage had been contained to the back of the house where the kitchen and the small room he used for an office were located—but that meant that most of his paintings and a good portion of the photographs he’d taken had been damaged in the chaos.</p>
<p>“Well, look at it this way,” Booker had said to him as he tossed another ruined canvas into the trash pile, “You were talking about a new start,” he’d wiped his hands on his jeans, muddy and sooty around the ankles from trekking through the puddles of water in the house, “Maybe a house fire isn’t the <em>best </em>new start, but it’s definitely <em>something</em>.”</p>
<p> Joe snorts and wipes his dirty hands on his own jeans, “This wasn’t the new start I meant, Book,” he says dryly, “I didn’t sabotage the wiring in my house just to burn everything so I could start over.”</p>
<p>“Never said you did,” Booker says, looking up at the sky—the clouds dark and heavy, the thick smell of rain in the air, “Come on, let’s go get something to eat while we figure out what the insurance adjuster needs from you so we can get your house fixed.”</p>
<p>Something to eat, as it turned out, was the local Waffle House situated in the center of town near the Walmart and a hair salon—and while the inside was cold as hell despite the heat coming from the giant grill in the center of the place, the coffee tasted decent and if you ate it quick enough, the waffles were pretty good as well.</p>
<p>“We got the photos of the damage on the inside, and we should be getting the report from the fire marshal on Wednesday, right?” Booker asks, stirring a spoonful of sugar into his coffee, “Once you submit that stuff, then it’s all up to what the insurance thinks.”</p>
<p>Joe hums, taking a sip of the mediocre coffee that’s just on the side of <em>too hot</em>, “Meanwhile,” he says, “You’ll be a good friend and let me sleep on your couch until this mess is fixed,” he looks at Booker with a pleading expression, “I think if I have to spend one more night in a hotel I’m going to cry.”</p>
<p>Booker shrugs, “Sure. It’ll be a tight squeeze because I live in a single bedroom apartment, but if you want to sleep on my couch, I won’t begrudge you,” the conversation pauses as the waitress brings their food and refills their coffee, “But,” he says a few minutes later, pointing a forkful of eggs at Joe, “Don’t bring anyone home to my apartment. I love you but I don’t want to see you fucking on my couch.”</p>
<p>“I’ve definitely moved past that stage in my life, thanks,” Joe says dryly. “But if I do get the urge, I’ll make sure my date knows we have to go back to their place.”</p>
<p>Booker grins wide and shoves the eggs into his mouth with a low hum, “The food’s kind of shitty here, huh?” he asks, even as he scoops more eggs onto his fork.</p>
<p>Joe just shakes his head, “It’s got it’s charm at least,” he says, shoving a bite of waffle into his mouth, “Even if it’s colder than hell in here.”</p>
<p>Booker nods in solemn agreement, “Which means we should hurry and eat so we can leave,” he says. “We’ll swing by your place before we go back to mine so we can grab some clothes to throw in the washing machine. That way you don’t have to wear my clothes again,” he glances at the t-shirt Joe had borrowed from him this morning, “It’s just really strange seeing you in my clothes.”</p>
<p>“You gave me a t-shirt that you wore once and decided didn’t fit right, I highly doubt that counts as me wearing your clothes, Book.”</p>
<p>Booker waves his hand, “Either way,” he says, and then, the two of them lapse into silence as they finish eating.</p>
<p>=====</p>
<p>
  <em>Hey Nile, this is Joe. Feel up to that lunch I promised you? </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Holy shit Joe, you’re my hero. I’m stuck at the station right now for mandatory training and I’m dying for something to eat. I’ll text you the address; feel free to find me the biggest, best burger in town and we’ll call it even. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>No problem, Nile. See you in a few!</em>
</p>
<p>The burger was from a place in the town over from where he lived and though he didn’t really eat meat much these days, he had to admit it smelled pretty good from where it sat in a styrofoam carton in the passenger seat.</p>
<p>The drive back to the station Nile was at wasn’t long, it was just quiet and gave Joe far too much time to think—both about his predicament with his house and the impending deadlines he had coming up for two art projects he’d barely started.</p>
<p>Though honestly, moving into a house that had questionable wiring probably wasn’t his smartest move, he had to admit, the not quite panic he felt at losing his house and most of his possessions really fueled him in a way he wasn’t quite prepared for—he didn’t think Booker was all that prepared to find several canvases propped up around his living room with various splashes of color on them either—some bright reds and oranges, some of them as dark and muddy as the water pooling in the hallway of the burnt shell of his house.</p>
<p>Which is why, two days after sending off the report from the fire marshal to his insurance agent, he’d set out with the sole purpose of getting out of Booker’s hair for a bit, of changing his surroundings—maybe making a new friend and here he was now, on his way out into the far reaches of the county towards the one fire department that sat outside of the city limits with food and his sketchbook, hoping to draw some sort of inspiration from his outing other than bright color and the all encompassing feeling of <em>loss</em>.</p>
<p>Pulling up to the station, he briefly thinks about the larger station in town, the one that’s made from brick and glass with proper uniformed firefighters and its own safety squad and then he thinks back to the conversation he’d heard Nicky and Nile have while on the ambulance, the one about budgets and lack of money and wonders if the other stations in the county look like this.</p>
<p><em>This</em> turns out to be a somewhat large metal building in bright red with three large bay doors, all opened and showing off the trucks—one large and shiny engine, and two smaller trucks that look a little older and more <em>used</em> than the ones he’d seen in town.</p>
<p>There’s an ambulance parked on the asphalt beside the station, opposite to the side with the parking lot, the back of it opened but no one inside and Joe takes a deep and steadying breath before he gets out of the car, grabbing his sketchbook and the carton of food along with the drink the waitress had insisted on giving him.</p>
<p>He realizes, somewhat too late, that he only knows Nile and vaguely Nicky from this station and that he sees neither one of them as he walks up the slight grassy hill between the parking lot and the station and he thinks that <em>maybe</em>, he should text Nile to let her know he’s here, but then she’s jogging out of one of the bay doors.</p>
<p>“Nile!” He says, catching her attention as she looks like she’s about to head down the asphalt incline and towards the road, “Is this a bad time?”</p>
<p>Nile comes to a stop just feet away, a wide grin on her face as she sees him, “Joe!” she says, jogging over to him, “We just finished up with ladder training so you’re just on time,” her eyes zero in on the container in his hands, “Is that for me?” she asks, already reaching out, wiggling her fingers and making a ‘give me’ motion.</p>
<p>Joe laughs, holding the food out to her, “The waitress also insisted I get a sweet tea,” he says, holding the cup out, “I don’t know what you like to drink but…” he trails off, feeling only a moment of hesitancy before she takes the cup too.</p>
<p>“Oh Joe,” she says with a happy sigh, “Come on, I’ll introduce you to the squad,” she turns, inclining her head, “Also, the sweet tea was a good touch. I realized only after you’d text that I never specified something to drink so this,” she holds the cup up, “Is a pleasant surprise.”</p>
<p>Joe grins, “Glad I took the waitress’ suggestion then,” he says, following Nile towards the doors, “I’m not going to be interrupting anything am I?” he asks as he crosses the threshold onto the dull red painted concrete.</p>
<p>“Nah,” Nile says, “We’re finishing up, the other guys are torturing some of the probies with hose rolls but nothing <em>too </em>serious.”</p>
<p>Joe glances around, the large engine beside them blocking most of the station but as they come to the end up it, he notices that, while the place doesn’t look <em>that </em>big on the outside, it opens up into something more towards the back—a set of stairs leading up to another room, a bathroom tucked in the back corner underneath the stairs. There’s a long fold out table set up along a white wall in the back where a window shows a small kitchen just inside the room, several fold out chairs sit around the table.</p>
<p>To the left of the main engine, there’s another truck that looks somewhat like an ambulance but painted red with the station number across the side and behind that, a large area of empty space where several hoses are stretched out—Joe notices that the people standing around aren’t really wearing uniforms, just plain black t-shirts and jeans, the station number printed across the backs of the shirts in white.</p>
<p>Nile places the food down onto the table and sits down heavily in one of the chairs, nudging the one beside her with her foot, “Sit,” she says, “How are things since I last saw you?”</p>
<p>Joe sits, placing his sketchbook down onto the table, “Well, I’ve cleared most of the damaged stuff out of the house,” he says with a sigh, “Sent off the report to the insurance and now I’m staying in a one bedroom apartment with my best friend,” he shakes his head, “Not that I don’t love the guy I’ve lived alone for a while and I’m not used to being in someone else’s space again.” He taps his fingers against the cover of the sketchbook, “Not to mention, I think he’s tired of me leaving canvases all over the place.”</p>
<p>“Oh?” Nile asks, “You’re an artist then?”</p>
<p>“Somewhat,” Joe says, “I’m not famous or anything, but the commissions pay the bills and allow me to make art as my form of income,” He sighs, “There’s a showing I’m doing in a couple months and most of the pieces I had ready for it were damaged in the fire so now I’m having to reassess and redo most of the work I’ve already completed.” He taps his sketchbook again, “Hopefully, a change of scenery will help me get over this art funk I’ve fallen into.”</p>
<p>“Can you show me some of your art?” She asks as she pops open the container and shoves a french fry in her mouth, groaning, “Fuck okay hold on, did you go to that little hole in the wall place in the next town over?” she asks. “The one across the street from the car lot and beside that little salon that I doubt is still open?”</p>
<p>Joe grins widely, “I did,” he says, “I’m glad you approve of it—I was running a few errands and ended up over that way when I texted you. Figured you’d like something better than fast food.”</p>
<p>Nile picked the burger up, taking a huge bite of it with another groan, “Joe,” she says once she’s swallowed the food, “I think you’ve reached best friend status,” she takes another bite, “Holy shit I haven’t eaten there in so long, I’ve forgotten how good the food tastes.”</p>
<p>A certain warmth spreads through Joe at her words, “Best friend, huh?” he asks. “You might have to fight with Booker on that. He’s taken up the mantle as best friend for so long, I don’t know if he’ll be okay with someone trying to scope his territory.”</p>
<p>“I can fight,” Nile says, raising an eyebrow at Joe who shakes his head fondly at her, “But really, I like you Joe, I’d like to be your friend if that’s cool with you.”</p>
<p>Joe hums, leaning back in his chair, “If that means we can hang out and I don’t have to sit on Booker’s couch for hours at a day or drive around aimlessly then I’m in.” he says with a grin.</p>
<p>Nile grins back, “Good to know,” she says, “I work four days, twelve hours and then I’m off three—usually I’m here at the station because this is the one that me and my partner Jay have taken into our rotation—we’re EMT and then there’s Dizzy who’s a volunteer on this department which isn’t at all why we chose this place,” she pauses, snorting a little, “But honestly, anytime I’m here, you’re free to hang out whenever you want. Watch out for Andy though because she likes to try and recruit people onto the station.”</p>
<p>“Gotcha,” Joe says with a nod, “So, there’s not really many people on this department, huh?” he asks, “I mean, it just seems smaller than the one in town.”</p>
<p>Nile grimaces, “Yeah well, we’re volunteer,” she says, “We take in anyone and everyone who wants to join and then we train them—meanwhile the one in town is a paid department where you have to jump through several hoops to even be <em>considered</em> to be part of it.” She shrugs, “I like this department because the people here are nice, they’re not conceited, and we <em>want </em>to help people—no price tag attached. Andy runs a tight ship and makes sure that no one joins just so they can get their thirty seconds of fame. One wrong move and you run the risk of putting everyone on the squad in danger.”</p>
<p>Joe makes a soft noise, “I see,” he says, “Well, I suppose that’s pretty noble then. Wanting to do this just to help people.”</p>
<p>“We get fuck all for funding, but we have good people here,” a new voice says, and Joe turns around to see a woman standing there with short, dark hair—wearing a black t-shirt with the word <em>Chief </em>written in white lettering above the single pocket.</p>
<p>“Hey Andy,” Nile says with a little wave, “This is Joe, we saved his house from burning all the way down,” she pops another fry in her mouth, “And Joe, this is Andy, the station’s chief. She’s the one who keeps all of us hooligans in shape and makes sure we’re doing this for the right reasons.”</p>
<p>Joe offers his hand to Andy who takes it, squeezing it briefly, “Hopefully you’ll get full funding to rebuild it,” she says to him. “It really is a shame—electrical fires happen when we least expect it, honestly.”</p>
<p>Joe just grins, “It’s all up to insurance now,” he jokes, pulling his hand back, “Thank you though, I don’t remember much from that night, but you did save a lot more of my house than I expected. Most of the damage is only in the kitchen and office, my bedroom is mostly untouched except for smoke damage so really I owe you guys.”</p>
<p>Andy shakes her head, patting Joe’s shoulder, “All a part of the job—hey, you don’t happen to know anyone who’d wanna join the department, do you?” she asks.</p>
<p>Beside him, Nile snorts softly, shaking her head, “Andy please, don’t hassle him about that.”</p>
<p>Shrugging apologetically, Andy sighs, “It was worth a try,” she says, “I’m going to go find Copley now. Feel free to hang out whenever you want,” she waves at Joe as she moves past him, “It was nice meeting you Joe.”</p>
<p>She’s gone before Joe can say much else and Nile’s snickering softly beside him, “She seems distracted,” he says casually.</p>
<p>“Mhm,” Nile says with a mouthful of burger, waiting until she swallows it before continuing, “County Council meeting is tonight so she’s trying to hatch a plan to squeeze more money out of them for the department. It’s almost time to send the probies off for the certification and the department pays for all of that.” She waves her hand around, “Also we need new equipment and a few new pairs of gloves—she’s going to be talking to another department about borrowing a few sets of gear for the probies who need it when they take 1152.”</p>
<p>“Are you sure you should be telling me this?” Joe asks skeptically, “I mean, seems like it’s personal information.”</p>
<p>Nile snorts loudly, “Oh no, please. Only if I tell you how much we get in grants and funding, sure, that’s too much. But part of the whole schtick of volunteer departments is talking about stuff like this on the off chance someone with money hears us and wants to make a contribution to our department.”</p>
<p>“Ah, so you want me to donate to your department then, huh?” Joe asks jokingly, “Nile, I can’t believe our friendship has started off this way.”</p>
<p>“I’m not <em>that </em>bad,” Nile says, rolling her eyes. “I’m just telling you, our lack of equipment and our need for better gear and stuff is something that’s commonly known around the county anyway, so it doesn’t matter if I tell you about it.”</p>
<p>Joe hums quietly, “Have you guys tried fundraisers?” he asks.</p>
<p>Nile shrugs, “There’s a giant yard sale on Saturdays that we sell food at sometimes and we get a turn to play first responder at the local wrestling matches, but it’s nowhere near enough to raise any money for a lot of gear. So, every time there’s a county council meeting, Andy tries to squeeze out more funding from them for us and sometimes it works but there’s this one guy on the council right now who’s determined to constantly vote no on us getting money.” She sighs, “I think he’s just mad cause Andy refused to merge our department with another one.”</p>
<p>“Ooh,” Joe says quietly, “That’s not ideal,” he glances around, “Do you think Andy would mind if I did a few sketches of the trucks?” he asks, tapping at the cover to his sketchbook again. </p>
<p>Nile grins, “I don’t think she’d mind, make yourself comfortable—”</p>
<p>The sound of the radio attached to her hip interrupts her, a loud and piercing sound that makes Joe wince.</p>
<p>“You might wanna cover your ears for this,” She says quickly, closing the lid to her food and standing up. “Looks like we’ve got a call, feel free to hang around, I’ll text you when we’re on the way back, yeah?” she calls out as the rough low grinding sound of an airhorn drowns out anything else she says.</p>
<p>Joe presses his hands over his ears, the sound muted only by a little as it continuously goes off—Andy’s voice barely carrying over the noise as she yells for her crew.</p>
<p>When the airhorn finally stops, Joe hears the sound of heavy boots thudding down stairs and Andy’s sharp voice, “Come on Nicky, let’s go!”</p>
<p>There’s another set of thumping and that’s when Joe sees him—dressed in the same t-shirt and jeans like everyone else, from his spot at the table, Joe can just see the vague creases in his cheek, the way his hair looks more ruffled and out of place, the light flush of his cheeks, “Coming boss,” he answers back and Joe can <em>hear </em>how thick his accent is suddenly. He’s carrying a red duffle bag thrown over his shoulder as he walks briskly over towards one of the smaller trucks that Andy’s hanging out of.</p>
<p>While he’s sure he’ll deny it later, he <em>definitely </em>pays close attention to the way Nicky just tosses the red duffle bag up into the front seat like it weighs nothing, watches the play of muscle in his arms and back as he grabs onto the metal bar by the door and hoists himself up into the cab, the door slamming closed behind him loudly.</p>
<p>As the truck pulls out of the station, Joe hears the unmistakable sound of ambulance sirens and watches as Nile pulls away from the building before speeding off after the truck.</p>
<p>Briefly, he wonders exactly what the call is, he’d been unable to really hear the dispatch on the radio once the airhorn had started going off and then, once it’d stopped, there wasn’t much else to listen for other than dispatch rattling off an address and several codes.</p>
<p>With a shrug, he grabs his sketchbook and stands up, moving the chair with him as he finds the best place to sit so he can sketch out the long lines of the truck sitting in front of him, figuring, if he’s going to be here waiting for Nile to return, he could at least do something to keep him busy until then.</p>
<p>======</p>
<p>When he finally checks his phone, he realizes that he’d been sketching for several hours at that point and he stops long enough to complete a few wrist stretches to chase away the ache, placing his sketchbook down onto the table and standing up, stretching his arms above his head to work out the dull throbbing in his back.</p>
<p>Vaguely, he can hear Booker’s voice in his head telling him to take it easy, it hasn’t been all that long since he decided to take a tumble out of a first story window and spending too much time sitting in one place hunched over his sketchbook wasn’t conducive to healing.</p>
<p>Taking a moment to search out the bathroom, he notices that the room is barely bigger than a closet with a toilet and sink on one side and a stall shower shoved into the opposite corner and once he’s finished, as he’s washing his hands, he realizes that there’s only cold water and it’s just that, extremely <em>cold</em>—and with a dubious glance at the shower he leaves the room, turning the light off behind him and leaving the door cracked open.</p>
<p>Joe’s phone vibrates where he’d left it on the table and he picks it up, grinning when he sees a text from Nile.</p>
<p>
  <em>We’re heading back now. You still at the station? </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Still here, why? </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh sweet. Hey, do you wanna stay for dinner? I know, I know it’s very cliché and we’re adults but it’s Nicky’s turn to cook and he always cooks way too much. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I mean sure? If no one minds. I don’t really eat meat though? If that’s an issue I can find something else to eat no big deal. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Won’t be a problem! See you soon!</em>
</p>
<p>True to her word, soon, he hears the echoing steady beeping of a large truck’s reverse indicator and he glances up from the sketch he’d gone back to working on to see the truck back into the bay slowly.</p>
<p>“Hey Joe,” Nile says as the door off to the side of the station slams loudly, “Hopefully you weren’t bored to death waiting on us.”</p>
<p>Joe hums, holding up his half-finished sketch of the truck so she can see it, “I kept busy,” he says with a grin and Nile whistles.</p>
<p>“Damn Joe, that looks real good,” She narrows her eyes a little, “Are you sure you’re not a famous artist?”</p>
<p>“I do post some drawings on Instagram and I have a decent following but not by much,” Joe says with a little shrug. “It’s just a hobby and a way for me to draw in potential clients but it’s not like I’m <em>famous </em>or anything.”</p>
<p>Nile gives him a look, “You could be,” she says vaguely, motioning towards his half-finished drawing. “You gonna color it?" she asks.</p>
<p>"Maybe," Joe says, watching her. "Why?”</p>
<p>Nile shrugs, “Just wanna see it when you’re done, that’s all,” she grins, “Hey Andy, come over here for a second!” she calls out and Joe barely has time to do anything before Andy’s back, hair askew.</p>
<p>“What is it Nile?” She asks, running her fingers through her hair, trying to put it back in place, “Oh hey Joe, you’re still here, huh?”</p>
<p>Joe shrugs, “I have absolutely nothing to do that doesn’t involve working on paintings or cleaning the shell of my home out,” he straightens a little, glancing over at Nicky who’d come over with Andy.</p>
<p>“Joe, show Andy the sketch, she’ll <em>love </em>it,” Nile says, nudging his shoulder a little bit, “Joe’s an <em>artist</em>, Andy.”</p>
<p>Andy snorts a little, “Couldn’t have gathered that from the numerous canvases I saw inside his home, Nile,” she teases, looking down when Joe holds the sketchbook up again. “Oh damn,” she says, going a little quiet, “That looks really good Joe.”</p>
<p>“Andy’s dad bought that truck right before he retired from here,” Nile says softly, smiling up at Andy. “It’s very special to her.”</p>
<p>“You’re not supposed to have a favorite truck,” Andy says, somewhat grudgingly, “But I can’t help but love her. Unfortunately, she doesn’t see much action usually. We either need supplies or water and an engine isn’t the best thing to take out on a call when your tanker holds more water and has better pressure.”</p>
<p>Joe glances down at the drawing then up at the wistful look on Andy’s face, “When I’m done, if you want it, I’ll get it framed for you.” He offers, “Think of it as a thank you gift for saving what you could of my house,” he adds quickly when she opens her mouth.</p>
<p>Andy pauses for a moment, wiping her hands on her jeans, “Yeah, okay. That seems fair to me.” She smiles, “Thank you Joe.”</p>
<p>Joe smiles back, “No problem. Least I could do.” He glances back down at the sketch, “It might take me a bit, there’s a lot of truck and then there’s color,” he waves a hand, “But it’s not anything too much, I’ll just have to come here more often to get everything right on the truck.”</p>
<p>Andy pats Joe on the shoulder, “Fine with me,” she says, “We’re a community establishment after all,” she glances up at the clock hanging on the wall, “Okay, I’ve got to go make a few phone calls now and get ready for the meeting, Nicky’s cooking tonight so leave the kid alone so he can whip something up that’s vaguely edible and doesn’t taste like old hotdog water.”</p>
<p>“The old hot dog water was <em>once</em>,” Someone across the station yells back and beside him, Nile laughs, leaning against his shoulder.</p>
<p>“We’re a firehouse of barely decent cooks,” she whispers to him, moving to take a seat beside him as Andy goes to her office. “Nicky’s the exception because he’s Italian.”</p>
<p>“I heard that Nile,” Nicky says as he moves past where they’re seated. “I’m Italian sure, but I can’t do anything to disguise the taste of store bought noodles and jar sauce,” he sighs, the sound echoing a little when he steps into the kitchen, “I really need to remember to bring some of the sauce I made here to store,” he says mostly to himself as he shakes his head.</p>
<p>Nile perks up a little, “Nicky if you do that then I’ll marry you,” she says with a wide grin.</p>
<p>Nicky’s banging a few pots around in the kitchen, Joe observes, and his face is a little flushed as he glances over at them through the window, “How kind of you but I’m not a big fan of marriages based only on food,” he says with a straight face. “And unfortunately, you’re not exactly my type, Nile.”</p>
<p>Nile grabs a couple of napkins left over from her lunch earlier and balls them up, tossing them through the window at Nicky, “You’re such an ass,” she says, though she’s laughing about it, face split into a large, beautiful smile.</p>
<p>“Don’t hassle the cook!” Joe hears Andy yell from somewhere in the station and Nile snickers beside him.</p>
<p>Nicky’s smiling now, leaning back against the counter by the small stove, watching Nile with fond eyes, “Every time I cook, she claims she’s going to marry me, but I think it’s just because I’m the only one who knows my way around a kitchen.” He shrugs, “Apparently that’s a quality that women look for in men?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.</p>
<p>“What, you mean <em>you </em>don’t look for that quality in men?” Nile asks, “Nicky please, love yourself.”</p>
<p>Nicky just laughs, a soft yet sharp sound, as if it had been pulled from his lips all of a sudden, “Nile, I cook enough for two people. I enjoy cooking anyway, so finding a man who can cook wouldn’t really…I mean. It would be nice, I guess, but it’s not a deal breaker. Now cleaning, on the other hand…” he trails off, causing Nile to break out into another fit of giggles.</p>
<p>Joe watches the exchange, feeling almost like he’s missing something but not quite brave enough to ask—especially since the conversation seemed to be something they had all the time, if the teasing looks and the giggles were anything to go by.</p>
<p> “So, Joe—” Nicky says, turning his attention to Joe, “How are things?”</p>
<p>Joe blinks slowly, “Things?” he asks, “Oh uh, well, they’re okay? As okay as they can be. It’s still an adjustment period.”</p>
<p>Nicky smiles softly, “Understandable,” he says, letting the silence lapse between them for a moment. “Are you still staying at the hotel?”</p>
<p>There’s concern in his voice, Joe realizes, and he feels something he can’t quite name swell in his chest, “No, I’m staying with a friend for now,” he says. “I only stayed in the hotel for one night.”</p>
<p>“Oh, that’s good!” Nicky says with a little smile, “I’m glad you’ve worked something out. Hotels can be rough, especially long term.”</p>
<p> Joe bites his lower lip, “Yeah,” he says softly, “Not sure if I’m going to survive this period where I stay with my best friend…” he waves a hand, “One bedroom apartment and all that. I’m sleeping on his couch. We were roommates in college at one point, but it feels…bad, feels like I’m taking advantage somehow.”</p>
<p>Nicky turns back to the stove, stirring at the sauce in one pan before opening a box of spaghetti noodles, dumping them into the pot of boiling water on one of the back eyes of the stove, “I think if your friend is nice enough to let you stay with him, even if it’s his couch, maybe offer to do something in return for him?” he says, phrasing it like a question. “I couch surfed quite a lot when I got here until I could get my own place. Waiting lists in small towns seem to constantly be full,” he huffs out a quiet laugh and Joe sees the corner of his lips turn up, “So I offered to help out around the house. Cooking, cleaning, sometimes a grocery run, even getting the people I’d been staying with out of the house for the day if I could afford it.”</p>
<p>Joe thinks over Nicky’s words, thinks about all the help that Booker’s offered him so far—going through the burnt shell of his house together to try and find what can be salvaged, lunch outings to keep his spirits up, helping with the insurance claim— “I think you’re right,” Joe says thoughtfully, “I really should do something nice for Booker,” he says. “Thank you, Nicky,” he grins over at him, “Once again, you’re looking out for me.”</p>
<p>He can feel Nile looking at him, looking between the two of them really, her eyes narrowed in contemplation.</p>
<p>“It’s no problem, Joe.” Nicky says softly, mostly to the sauce in the pan he’s still stirring, but Joe can see how soft and fond the smile pulling at one corner of his lips is.</p>
<p>The sound of conversation and laughter echoes around them as the three of them fall silent—Joe going back to sketching, Nile working on a report, steadily writing something down on the sheaf of paper attached to the clipboard she’s balanced against the side of someone’s helmet while Nicky silently cooks, the soft sound of cabinets opening and closing as he shuffles through them.</p>
<p>Joe glances up for a moment, taking in Nicky’s profile, the look of concentration on his face as he carefully shakes in some sort of seasoning into the sauce, the tip of his tongue caught between his lips as he stirs slowly before bringing the spoon up to his mouth to taste it, making a face.</p>
<p>Nile clears her throat softly beside him and Joe startles, looking away from Nicky to look at her instead—her eyebrow raised, and Joe just makes a face at her before looking back down at his half-finished sketch.</p>
<p>The silence stretches between them again, and Nicky makes a frustrated noise in the kitchen, digging through the cabinets once again for something else, muttering under his breath as he does, and Joe thinks he hears something about fresh garlic or oregano and beside him, Nile snickers softly, her shoulders shaking a little.</p>
<p>“Hey Nicky, are you at a place I can steal you for a moment?” Andy’s voice comes from somewhere past the kitchen, “I need to talk to you about your certification…” her voice trails off and Nicky looks over towards the door and then back at Nile.</p>
<p>“Go ahead, Nicky,” she says, placing her pen down and standing up. “I got it from here. Go on, I know this is important.”</p>
<p>Nicky waits until she’s in the small kitchen before he smiles, pats her shoulder and heads out the door, the sound of Andy’s office door closing loud over the din of the station.</p>
<p>“So…” Nile starts slowly as she takes place at the stove, stirring the sauce again, dipping a new spoon into it to taste it. “Nicky, huh?” she asks with a shit eating grin.</p>
<p>Joe groans softly, pressing his hands to his face, “Nile, <em>don’t</em>.” he mumbles into his palms. “I don’t have the time or even a <em>house</em> to think about anything involving Nicky right now.”</p>
<p>Nile hums, “But you’re not denying that you <em>would </em>think about Nicky if you…” she waves the wooden spoon Nicky had been using to stir the sauce in circles, “<em>had a house</em>, as you said.”</p>
<p>He doesn’t say anything, rubbing one hand over his face, using the other to tap his fingers nervously against the table, “Isn’t it a bad idea to get involved with people in a small town?” he asks, hoping to change the subject, “I mean, especially if you’re friends with someone on the same department as the person.”</p>
<p>“I don’t think so,” Nile says, “Don’t think it counts if you’re not <em>from </em>the small town.” She turns the stove off, “Besides, I don’t think you’d have to worry about anything. Nicky’s a good guy, you’re a good guy.” She moves over to lean against the small counter by the window separating the kitchen from the station’s truck bays, “Do you let every stranger in a uniform drive you to a hotel?” she asks teasingly.</p>
<p>Joe makes another face, “I don’t like that you said that,” he says, “I don’t like that you’re making a <em>point</em>,” he shakes a finger at her. “Don’t make points around me. He’s cute but I don’t want to drag him into all my…” he waves a hand around himself. “It’s not the right time.”</p>
<p>Nile just hums, “If you say so, Joe,” she says, though her tone now is less teasing and gentler, “I’ve got your back. If you ever wanna talk about cute fire department boys let me know.” She steps back, “Now come and get some food before the rest of these animals in the department do.”</p>
<p>Joe closes his sketchbook and stands up, walking around the long table and past the rescue truck to slip into the kitchen, wrapping his arm around Nile’s shoulders, “Thank you,” he mumbles, gently resting his head against hers for a moment. “You’re a good friend, Nile.”</p>
<p>“I know I am,” Nile says with a grin, patting Joe’s back, “Now get you some food so I can call the rest of the guys.”</p>
<p>Joe laughs and pulls away, “Of course,” he says, fighting a couple paper plates out of the package of them, scooping up some noodles and sauce onto the plate. “Thank you for the dinner offer, even if it is just spaghetti noodles and sauce,” he teases.</p>
<p>Nile shrugs, “Welcome to the life of a volunteer firefighter. You sure you don’t want in on this luxury?” she asks.</p>
<p>“I’m good, thanks,” he says, gently bumping his shoulder against hers as he passes her to leave the kitchen.</p>
<p>As he settles down to eat, watching the rest of the members of the department crowd into the tiny kitchen, crowded and loud as they jostle and joke around, he wonders if this is what it’s like to be <em>part </em>of something.</p>
<p>======</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>Inspiration comes whenever she feels, Joe thinks as he quietly moves around Booker’s living room, fingers tapping a pattern out against his thigh as he walks circles around the couch, carefully dodging various covered canvases as he marks a path into the carpet.</p>
<p>It’s unfair, really, how sleep eludes him—his watch reading just past midnight as he grabs for his sketchbook and a pencil, silently dropping down onto the couch, curling into one corner as he scratches across the paper, tongue caught between his teeth in concentration.</p>
<p>The days have been slipping into something a little more agreeable recently, his insurance company had called, and the agent had come by to look at the damage—there’s a local crew coming within the week to start <em>properly </em>cleaning the place, to work on putting things back to <em>right</em> and close the ache in his chest—he attributes the good news to his sudden burst of inspiration as he sketches out several ideas for the empty canvases he has stored at the storage facility in town.</p>
<p>At any rate, he’ll be back in his house <em>and </em>ready for the showing around the same time, if there’s any truth to the agent’s estimations and Booker will have his apartment back and Booker will stop being exasperated at Joe’s sudden need to clean the place while he’s at work.</p>
<p><em>“I’m just helping you out Book,”</em> <em>Joe had said, motioning towards the dishes in the sink. “As a thanks for letting me crash here.” </em></p>
<p>
  <em>Booker groans, “Joe, you don’t have to clean my apartment. You can just. Buy me lunch. Let me sleep over at your place or something stupid like that if you really <strong>feel </strong>like you need to pay me back for this, but you don’t <strong>have </strong>to. I’m helping you because I <strong>want </strong>to.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Don’t argue with the man who’s saving you from dish duty, Book,” Joe says somewhat disapprovingly. “Seriously. Let me help you. You won’t take my money, or anything so let me do this, okay?” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Booker just sighs, shaking his head, “Sure bud. Knock yourself out, I guess. I’ve got an appointment. Try not to alphabetize my entire house or something.” </em>
</p>
<p>His pencil stops moving and he stares down at the mess of sketches across the page, blinking his eyes several times to clear them—it’s past one now and he stands, groaning softly, feeling like he’s <em>vibrating </em>out of his skin, the darkens corners of Booker’s living room almost <em>closing </em>in on him.</p>
<p>He’s quick and quiet as he pulls on some jeans, shrugs into a light jacket and steps into his shoes, keys, phone and wallet all in hand, he slips out the door, closing it softly behind him.</p>
<p>There had been rain earlier and the streets are wet, his shoes splashing through puddles of water as he walks through the apartment complex’s parking lot, finding his car parked among a eclectic group of vehicles—he unlocks it and gets inside, starting it.</p>
<p>He doesn’t quite have a destination in mind, not really, somewhere bright maybe, but not too bright; and as he pulls onto the street, he finds himself driving down the main strip where Walmart sits off to the side and down a hill—a left at the red light has him passing by the entrance to the parking lot and further down the road as the brightness fades into a low lit barbecue place that Nile swears by, the rough shapes of what’s left of the old textile mill and the moonlight reflecting off of a pond in a generously called <em>park</em>, further out until he sees a turn off that takes him to a fire department and the highway to the nearest city.</p>
<p>There’s a gas station sitting there, across from what used to be a pool hall, if Booker’s ramblings about this old area could be believed. The lights are lit and there’s a single vehicle parked in the parking lot.</p>
<p>Joe gives a pause. He <em>knows </em>that car.</p>
<p>He pulls into the parking lot, parks further away from the door by the side of the building—its long and unremarkably beige and the roof is a hideous blue that Joe can only hope was a mistake.</p>
<p>Getting out of the car he takes a moment to take in the silence, there’s crickets chirping in the distance, frogs lowly calling for rain and he breathes in deep, past the smell of the dumpster sitting not too far away, past the smell of gasoline until he can catch vague snatches of <em>grass </em>and <em>dirt </em>and <em>air. </em></p>
<p>He exhales slowly, the vibrating just under his skin quietening down to a dull buzz, his fingers finding the pockets of his jacket as he steps up onto the walkway in front of the door, taking in the various product ads lining the window, the large signs for cigarettes and beer and a sign advertising 20oz Cokes, 2 for $2.50.</p>
<p>Joe pulls the door open, a loud chime sounding as he steps inside, the heavy, thick scent of boiled peanuts hitting his senses as he stands in the doorway for a moment—the store cluttered with too many shelves and too many stands of product.</p>
<p>The floors are tiled, white and black like what you’d see in a kitchen, scuffed but clean and he pulls his jacket tighter around himself as he steps further into the store.</p>
<p>There’s no one at the counter, and Joe can see a desk sitting off to the far corner behind the counter, close to the door that leads to the bathrooms—there’s a thick text book sitting on it, the front cover almost as scuffed as the floors, several bright and colorful tabs sticking out of the sides and the top, a notebook and pen sitting to the side.</p>
<p>“Joe?”</p>
<p>Joe turns towards the back of the store, where a line of cooler doors sit and there, coming out of what he assumes is the employee entrance to the inside, is Nicky.</p>
<p>He’s wearing a polo shirt in the same unremarkably ugly blue that the roof of the store is, there’s a white name tag pinned to his chest, his name written in blocky font.</p>
<p>Terrible color aside, the shirt is cut in a way that flatters Nicky’s broad shoulders and Joe feels the vibration turned buzzing ease into something <em>different. </em></p>
<p>“Nicky,” Joe says, hoping his voice doesn’t sound as out of breath as he feels, “I didn’t know you worked here.”</p>
<p>Nicky shrugs, walking along the back aisle, right in front of the coolers, face serious as he scrutinized each facing. “Unfortunately,” he says finally, turning up the last aisle near the front door and walking up that one, his face relaxed, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “The glamorous life of a firefighter.” he waves around himself.</p>
<p>Joe laughs quietly and moves towards the counter, leaning against it as Nicky steps up behind it, “So, you volunteer your time to the community and you work overnight at a gas station,” he says with a hum, “Anything else in this glamorous lifestyle of yours I should know about?”</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>Nicky taps a finger against his chin, looking down at Joe, “There is one photo of me in this year’s charity calendar.” He says with a straight face.</p>
<p>Joe falters, blinking several times, “Charity calendar?” he asks, “Wait, what?”</p>
<p>Nicky huffs a little a digs his phone out of his pocket, “Its not a real calendar,” he says. “It was a joke we played on Andy. But there is a photo of me…” he trails off, his focus on his phone as he scrolls through several photos. “Ah! Here!”</p>
<p>Joe feels <em>flush </em>all of a sudden, staring at the photo—at <em>Nicky </em>who’s wearing a white button down shirt, halfway unbuttoned and showing off an ample amount of his pale chest and, Joe squints—its <em>wet </em>sticking to his chest and stomach and <em>arms </em>and his <em>shoulders</em>, there’s a black helmet held under his arm, and he’s wearing the bottoms to his turnout gear, the red suspenders hanging down at his hips.</p>
<p>“Andy is very vocal about people who don’t take our female firefighters seriously. There’s a group of ah—<em>young men </em>who think that the women should only be there to look attractive in eighty pounds of gear.” Nicky says, pulling his phone back, “And really, the calendar was Nile’s idea. But it’s only the men on our department. Doing various of those weird poses you see in those staged photos of models dressed as firefighters.”</p>
<p>Joe clears his throat, “People in small towns can be close minded,” he says. “It’s a nice picture though.” Slips out before he can stop it and Joe thinks he’s crossed a line but—<em>but </em>Nicky’s cheeks go pink and he runs his fingers through his hair.</p>
<p>“It was very uncomfortable,” he says sort of sheepishly. “I learned why the gear the models use is actually fake gear. Wearing 20 pounds of pants while trying to fake sexy is…quite difficult.”</p>
<p>Joe can’t help but laugh at that, curling his fingers around his jaw as he chuckles into the ball of his hand, “I think you managed to pull it off well enough.” He comments.</p>
<p>Nicky flushes deeper, “Thanks Joe,” he says softly, slipping his phone back into his pocket.</p>
<p>Silence settles between them as Nicky moves away from the counter towards the desk, grabbing the thick textbook, “So what are you doing up this late?” he asks as he plops the book down onto the counter.</p>
<p>Joe sighs, the reason he’s awake coming back to the forefront of his mind, “Can’t sleep,” he says, “Too keyed up with inspiration for my art while also trying to escape the over encompassing feeling of being closed in.”</p>
<p>Nicky makes a soft, sympathetic noise, “How are things going with the house?” he asks, flipping the book open to a seemingly random page, planting an elbow in the center where it’s spread open, leaning forward a little, “Tell me.”</p>
<p>Joe feels a smile take his face, at both the earnest and eager look on Nicky’s, “Well, my adjuster ruled the damage due to faulty wiring and will be cutting me a check so I can hire someone to repair the house and get it back up and running.”</p>
<p>Nicky hums softly, chin propped up and resting on the heel of his hand, “Andy’s wife is a very good carpenter and Andy won’t tell you but she’s good at electrical things,” he smiles, “If you need ideas on who to hire. Quynh has a whole team—that construction place that’s just over by the train tracks in town? She owns that. I’m sure she’d be happy to help you.”</p>
<p>Joe runs his fingers through his beard, contemplating, “I’ll have to look her up,” he says. “Andy knowing electrical doesn’t really surprise me, I don’t think. She seems like the type to know different things.”</p>
<p>Nicky hums again, “Andy and her father built the station we’re at. From the ground up. Andy was a teenager when they set the department up, and she grew up there. Honestly she’s the reason the upstairs area has electricity. Her father wanted to just make the room a place to sleep but she argued that they’d also need access to a light source that was more than just a battery powered lantern.” He’s got a fond smile on his face, “Andy took it upon herself to learn how to run the wiring needed to have electricity up there. And well, so far, it’s the only place that hasn’t needed rewiring in twenty something years.”</p>
<p>“That why she’s so protective of the place?” Joe asks as he reaches out to straighten a display box of chewing gum sitting on the counter.</p>
<p>“Somewhat,” Nicky says, “I definitely think the fact that her father was the previous chief has a lot to do with her continuing the legacy. Mostly I just think she likes it, and she gets voted chief every year because she’s so dependable and is able to handle the county council. Even our assistant chief, Copley, wouldn’t want to oust her and he’s just as good with the council as she is.”</p>
<p>“She definitely seems proud of the place,” Joe says, “What about you, though? How’d you end up there?”</p>
<p>A beat of silence passes and Joe, for only a moment, thinks that he’s overstepped somehow, but Nicky just smiles, “I’ve lived in this town a little bit longer than you have, I think. I’ve been here for almost two years now? Moved here to start over, something different than what I was used to. So, I get this job and one night Nile comes in while she’s on a shift. She’s very friendly and we immediately become close and then she invites me to the department she’s stationed at for an open house they have in the fall—it’s mainly to try and raise money for the new crew of people who need to get their 1152 certification in January—equipment purposes and all that. Andy immediately asks me if I want to join and sometimes, she can be persuasive, so I agree to do a trial period to learn everything and suddenly it’s January and I’m going through 1152.” Nicky shrugs somewhat sheepishly, “It’s really not glorious. It’s just me trying something out and realizing I love to do it. Sorry, maybe you were expecting something…more?”</p>
<p>Joe feels a smile tug at his lips, “Nah,” he says, “I think it’s perfect, honestly. Sometimes life takes you places you don’t expect.” He nudges the display of gum across the scratched counter top, back into its place close to the hard plastic case holding various scratch off lottery tickets.</p>
<p>Nicky hums softly, hides a smile behind his fingers, “You’re too kind, Joe.” He says softly, “Did you want something to drink?” he asks, “Maybe you’d like to try some of the ah…<em>food</em>?” he offers. “I’ll be throwing it away soon anyway.” He shrugs, “Its not the best, but if you’re hungry…”</p>
<p>Joe laughs, shaking his head, “No thank you,” he says. “I tend to stay away from uh…gas station food, no offence.” He rubs his palms against his jeans, “Really, I should probably be going soon anyway,” he says somewhat sheepishly, “I just. Saw your car while driving and figured I’d stop on to say hi.”</p>
<p>Nicky puts most of his weight on his elbow, leans closer to where Joe’s standing from across the counter, “I’m glad you stopped by. It was nice seeing you.” He leans back then and picks his book up, “I should get back to studying.” He says, waving at the scuffed front cover of the book. “Entry points in residential buildings won’t learn themselves.”</p>
<p>“I’ll leave you to it then,” Joe says, backing away from the counter a few steps, watching as Nicky looks down at the book, the play of the store’s shitty lighting haloing him like some sort of angel. He feels something tighten in his chest for a moment. “Hey Nicky?”</p>
<p>Nicky looks up, tilts his head to the side, “Yes, Joe?”</p>
<p>Joe licks his lips, “You know that shitty bar that’s beside the old movie theater?”</p>
<p>“I know of it,” Nicky says casually. “What about it?”</p>
<p>“My friend and I are meeting up there tomorrow to play pool—neither of us drink, but the tables are cheap, there’s decent food, and it’s not as bad as some bars…” he trails off, shaking his head. “Did you want to come? You can invite Nile too. We could all just…” he waves a hand, “Hang out?”</p>
<p>A bright smile blooms slowly across Nicky’s face, “That sounds lovely Joe,” he says. “What time did you want to meet?”</p>
<p>“Oh uh, around 5:30 is when we usually get there to get a table, before it gets too busy, you know?”</p>
<p>Nicky hums softly, “5:30 then,” he says, “I’ll see you tomorrow?”</p>
<p>Joe nods somewhat eagerly, “Yeah,” he says. “Tomorrow. Bye Nicky.”</p>
<p>He hears Nicky murmur back a <em>bye Joe </em>and he slips out the door, pressing his fist against his steadily beating heart for a moment, glancing back inside long enough to see Nicky watching him before he looks back down at the book on the counter.</p>
<p>As he drives back towards Booker’s apartment, he feels calmer, less unsettled, the scenery around him melding into something comforting as the rural gives away to the city, the bright streetlights catching on puddles of water pooled in the roads.</p>
<p>He pulls into the same parking space he’d vacated only a few hours earlier, cutting the engine and leaning forward, forehead pressed against his steering wheel—he loses himself in the silence, eyes closed as he thinks about the canvas sitting in Booker’s living room, the drop cloth covering it hiding away the various shades of blue and green spilled over it.</p>
<p>He tries not to think too hard about what that actually means.</p>
<p>======</p>
<p>“You’ve made <em>friends</em>,” Booker says somewhat proudly when Joe casually mentions that he’d invited Nile and Nicky to their weekly pool game night over breakfast that morning. “Joe, you’ve actually <em>done </em>it.”</p>
<p>Joe rolls his eyes, taking a long, slow drink from his mug, hoping the caffeine and sugar will give him the strength he needs to deal with Booker, “I have friends,” he says, somewhat offended.</p>
<p>“Besides me, dumbass,” Booker says, shaking a finger at Joe. “And the little old ladies at that one discount grocery store you like so much don’t count.”</p>
<p>Joe places his coffee cup down on the table, “I’ve been to Agnes’ house at least twice,” he says, though he doesn’t try to deny Booker’s claims. “Besides, you know how things are,” he waves a hand around, “This town is small, there’s a lot of.” He stops and shakes his head, “I’ve been busy this past year,” he settles on instead, frowning a little.</p>
<p>Booker looks at him, <em>really </em>looks at him, “I know I’ll never understand <em>that </em>aspect,” he says, “But I know that’s not all that’s holding you back, man.” He considers his next words, “Your mom would want you to be happy, Joe. You know that right? What happened to her, none of it was your fault. Her getting sick isn’t something you could have prevented.” He reaches across the table, resting his hand briefly over Joe’s, “She’d probably be really sad if she knew you weren’t putting yourself out there. Making friends with old ladies at the grocery store is nice, but that’s not what you <em>need</em>.”</p>
<p>“Geez,” Joe says after a moment, when Booker’s hand leaves his, “Is this what they’re teaching you in therapy, Book?” he asks, picking at the leftovers of his breakfast, a little frown on his lips, “And I <em>know</em>, I know she’d want me to be happy and it’s been…what, three years now? So, I <em>should </em>be over this but I’m not. Not really. I just can’t help but feel this <em>guilt </em>anytime I think about having fun. I think back to those nights she’d insist on me going out and having fun, only for me to come back and find her still sitting where I’d left her because she was too weak to move anywhere else. And I just think <em>what if, </em>you know? What if I had paid more attention, what if I had gone out less. Would she be any better?” He sits back in his chair and pulls his hands into his lap, “We both know the answer. She was already dying those last two months anyway, she’d already made her decision but even now, I still can’t help but think <em>what if</em>.”</p>
<p>He takes a deep breath in the silence of the kitchen, ignores the feel of Booker’s stare on him, finally after some time, he speaks again, “I need to move past it. Three years—” he shakes his head, “I can sometimes hear her voice. The disappointed tone she used to use when I’d do something she didn’t like. I can hear her say <em>Yusuf, stop isolating yourself</em>, and the therapy after her death…” he trails off, “I wasn’t able to really take in what all that meant then,” he presses his lips together. “I’m not going to be afraid to put myself out there but—I am going to be cautious. Make more friends my age, I guess. Not that you’re not a great friend, Book. But…you <em>are </em>right as much as I hate to admit it. I do need to stop living so far in the past that I let it ruin my future.”</p>
<p>Booker nudges his foot against Joe’s, “I’m sure your mom would be very happy right now,” he says softly. “And hey, it’s important that you realize that you can honor your mom’s memory but still move forward and not dwell on the bad things too.”</p>
<p>Joe presses his lips together and nods, “There are far more good memories than bad ones,” he agrees softly, glancing over at the window above the sink, the sunlight pouring through and into the room, “I’ve been thinking about making the central piece of my exhibit her,” he murmurs. “A tribute to the one person in the entire world who knew me better than myself.”</p>
<p>Booker hums, leans back in his chair, “She’d like that, I think.”</p>
<p>“She would,” Joe says softly, tilting his head against the back of the chair, “Maybe tomorrow I’ll head to the storage and dig through some of her old things I brought with me. The things I haven’t been able to make myself go through yet. I think…” he trails off, “I think that will help me get to a better place.”</p>
<p>Booker stands, clearing away their plates, “Do you want some help?” he asks, moving to the sink to dump them, “We could make a whole day out of it if you want.”</p>
<p>Joe thinks about it, thinks about having Booker there with him, someone who’s <em>been </em>here for him the whole time, through <em>everything </em>and he sighs, “I’ll call you when I’m done and we can grab some lunch?” he offers hesitantly, glancing over at Booker out of the corner of his eye.</p>
<p>The water turns on and Booker let’s Joe’s offer sit in the space between them, not quite heavy, not quite light either, “You fancy a trip to Olive Garden then?” he asks finally as the sink’s filling with water.</p>
<p>Joe snorts softly, turning his head fully to watch Booker, “Olive Garden, sure,” he says. “Where else could we get shitty Italian and endless bread sticks.”</p>
<p>Booker’s shoulders are shaking just the slightest, and from Joe’s seat he can see the smile on his lips, “Glad we can both agree,” he says, “Now come on, get over here and rinse my dishes.”</p>
<p>Joe laughs, standing up and moving to stand by Booker at the sink, “Of course,” he says with a shake of his head.</p>
<p>The silence stretches between them again, comfortable this time and Joe let’s himself get lost in rinsing and drying the dishes as Booker washes them, old habits from their days in college together.</p>
<p>“So, your new friends, Nile and Nicky,” Booker says, “I assume you met them the night of the fire,” he looks over at Joe expectantly. “You’ve kept them a secret this whole time and I’m kind of insulted,” he teases, nudging his shoulder against Joe’s.</p>
<p>Joe groans, “Okay well, Nile was the EMT who fixed me up that night, she stayed with me until I was able to get a ride to a hotel.” He makes a face, “And uh, Nicky is the one who gave me a ride to said hotel.”</p>
<p>“Those were Nicky’s clothes, weren’t they,” Booker says, more as a statement than a question, a shit eating grin on his face.</p>
<p>Joe splashes water at Booker, “I don’t want to introduce you to Nile now, you’re both going to be incorrigible about Nicky.”</p>
<p>“<em>Oh?</em> So, there <em>is </em>something <em>about </em>this Nicky then, huh?” Booker asks, nudging Joe back, “Something you wanna tell me, Joe? Is <em>Nicky </em>the reason you’ve been spending so much time at the fire department?”</p>
<p>Joe shakes his head and focuses on drying the dishes that Booker’s already washed, the ghost of a smile catching at the corner of his lips, “He’s not the reason, no,” he says with a little laugh. “I’ve been genuinely working on that piece for Andy and hanging out with Nile. Nicky just happens to volunteer there, so sometimes he <em>is </em>there when I’m also there, yes.”</p>
<p>Booker places the sponge he’d been using on the lip of the sink, turning to look at Joe, a serious look on his face—though the suds on his wrists and forearms take <em>some </em>of the seriousness away, “Joe, if Nile is…being <em>incorrigible </em>about Nicky then…” he trails off. “You can put yourself back out there, man.”</p>
<p>“Uh huh, I appreciate your concern, Book,” he says somewhat dryly, “But unfortunately I’m not afraid of putting myself out there. I’ve got a few things to work through first and then <em>maybe</em>…” he trails off, narrowing his eyes at Booker when he goes to open his mouth. “I don’t have a full house yet. <em>After</em> that, maybe.”</p>
<p>Going back to washing the dishes, Booker nudges Joe again, “If you want to talk to me about this boy you can,” he says teasingly. “But maybe wait until <em>after </em>I’ve met him. Just so I have,” he waves soapy fingers at Joe, “<em>context</em>.”  </p>
<p>Joe sighs heavily, placing the plates and silverware in the drying rack, leaning his hip against the counter, “Keep it up and I’ll never talk to you about boys.” He says with a shake of his head, thinking vividly of the several half-finished sketches of Nicky he’d snuck in between working out the final details on Andy’s drawing.</p>
<p>His favorite though, was probably the one where, leading up to it, Dizzy and Jay had lured Nicky over to one of the clear spaces in the station, a plain backboard laying on the hard concrete—Nile had been sitting beside him, quietly explaining how the backboard trick was something they did to <em>everyone</em>, but not in the malicious way <em>some </em>departments did—this one just mostly considered of convincing the person that it was how they <em>tested</em> the backboard between calls.</p>
<p>The hard part was usually convincing a new firefighter to let themselves be strapped to it, but, as Nile explained, Jay was very persuasive, and Nicky was <em>earnest </em>in a way that meant he wanted to help <em>no matter what</em>.</p>
<p>And so, Joe watched as Nicky stripped off the hoodie he’d been wearing, placing on the back of the rescue truck before lowering himself onto the backboard, letting Jay and Dizzy strap him down.</p>
<p>At first, it didn’t look like much, and really, it didn’t seem at <em>all </em>like a prank, but then Dizzy and Jay, with one look at each other, were suddenly <em>lifting </em>the backboard and swinging it back and forth—much to Nicky’s surprise and…<em>delight</em>?</p>
<p>“This is how he’s reacted to most of the pranks,” Nile murmurs with a grin as they watch Nicky, head tilted back as he laughs, squirming on the backboard just enough to make Jay and Dizzy’s swinging off balance. “He probably caught on halfway through that this isn’t how we check backboards.”</p>
<p>Joe takes in the flush of Nicky’s cheeks and his mussed hair as Dizzy and Jay lower him back to the ground finally with a loud cheer, the two of them yelling something he could barely hear over the sound of static in his mind and when Nile stands up to go over to them, Joe quickly flips to a later page in his sketchbook, tongue between his teeth as he quickly sketches out the vivid memory of Nicky’s laughter.</p>
<p>“Joe?” Booker’s voice cuts through his thoughts, “You in there? You just went away for a second…” he trails off, an edge of concern creeping into his voice.</p>
<p>He clears his throat, “How much shit will you give me if I say I was thinking about Nicky?”</p>
<p>Booker blinks once and then again, a soft snort leaving him as he leans into Joe, “Anything you want to share with the class?”</p>
<p>Joe makes a face and shoves the damp towel in Booker’s face, “Finish the dishes yourself. I’m going to go shower.”</p>
<p>The sound of Booker’s laughter lighting the entire room follows Joe as he heads out of the kitchen and down the hallway to the bathroom.</p>
<p>======</p>
<p>Joe’s not quite nervous really, he’s just meeting up with Nicky and Nile and they’re going to play pool like he and Booker usually do—he’s just…he <em>wants </em>Nile and Nicky to like Booker too, wants to have new friends and a best friend he can’t part with, he <em>wants </em>to bring his little family in together, wants to have this <em>overlap</em>—</p>
<p>“The corner table is open,” Booker says, voice hushed and excited, and when Joe looks across the room and sees their usual table open and waiting, he feels the nerves disappear, he feels <em>in his element</em>—</p>
<p>Booker’s already digging his wallet out of his pocket and heading up towards the bar to get quarters, “Get some nachos!” he calls out, already knowing that Booker’s probably going to get nachos <em>and </em>cheese fries because one can never have too much cheese.</p>
<p>“Hey Joe,” Nile’s voice comes from behind him and he turns, taking in her cropped jacket and t-shirt underneath, “I hope we’re not too late.”</p>
<p>Joe steps forward, gathering Nile in his arms for a hug, “You’re just in time,” he says into her hair as he spins her gently, “Look at you, out of uniform and still managing to be the best dressed in the room,” he teases her as he places her back on the ground, stepping back after a moment.</p>
<p>Nile shakes her head and reaches out, punching Joe in the bicep, “Don’t be a dumbass,” she says, but she’s grinning widely, her eyes sparkling with happiness. “Nicky should be inside in a minute,” she adds meaningfully, “He’s parking the car because he <em>insisted </em>on letting me out at the door.”</p>
<p>“Nile, It’s <em>raining</em>,” Nicky answers as he comes up behind her, poking at her arm. “I’m not going to make you walk in the rain.”</p>
<p>Not that he doesn’t appreciate the tight fire department t-shirt and dark cargo pants or jeans he’s seen Nicky in several times, somehow seeing him <em>outside </em>of that is—well.</p>
<p>He’s wearing a plain t-shirt, in a color that Joe can’t quite find a name for but makes his eyes look <em>blue</em>, his jeans look <em>new</em>, the dark material tight over his thighs—he’s got a green jacket draped over his arm, the material damp from the rain.</p>
<p>“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Nicky says, turning his attention to Joe, looking at him earnestly with his messy, rain swept hair and Joe feels his breath catch at the picture Nicky makes—something in him just wants to sweep Nicky into his arms—</p>
<p>He steps forward, “You’re just on time,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around Nicky’s shoulders in a hug—and either Nicky <em>anticipated </em>it, or <em>something </em>because Nicky slings an arm around his waist, palm fitting in the dip just below his ribs. “Thank you for coming.”</p>
<p>Nicky hums softly, hand warm and big against Joe’s side, <em>burning </em>through the thin material of his own shirt, “I’m glad to be here,” he whispers back, his hand moving carefully along his ribs as they pull back, and for a moment, Joe thinks he feels Nicky’s hand press <em>harder </em>before it leaves him entirely.</p>
<p>“Do we got a table?” Nile asks, raising her eyebrow as she looks between the two.</p>
<p>Joe clears his throat, watching Nicky put more distance between the two of them, “We have the corner one. Booker’s getting some nachos, maybe some cheese fries and quarters.” He leads them across the room, realizing they’d been standing close to the door the entire time, “Booker usually opens a tab that we pay at the end of the night so feel free to order on us,” he says, “Just let them know you’re with Joe and Booker.”</p>
<p>“Come here often then?” Nile asks as she takes her jacket off, placing it over the back of one of the chairs sitting against the wall.</p>
<p>Joe goes over to the stand holding all the pool cues, “Once a week,” he says with a grin. “To play pool and heckle the karaoke people at eight,” he pulls out a cue, testing its weight, “You two wanna grab your cue? We’re here early because all the good ones that aren’t off balance usually go around six.”</p>
<p>“They’re out of cranberry juice—I <em>can’t </em>imagine <em>why</em>, so I got us cran-grape instead,” Booker says as he walks up to the table carrying two bottles of juice under his arm, balancing a plate of nachos on one hand and a basket of cheese fries in his other hand. “Are you going to help me or—oh <em>hey</em>,” he stops at the edge of the pool table.</p>
<p>Nicky steps forward immediately, grabbing the basket of fries and nachos, carefully placing them onto the table by the wall and Booker throws Joe a look, “Hi, I’m Nicky,” he says, offering a little wave, “And this is my friend Nile. While we haven’t heard a <em>lot </em>about you, Joe does speak highly of you when he does talk about you.”</p>
<p>Nile salutes Booker with two fingers, “Nicky’s right. Also, Joe said I’d have to fight you for spot as his best friend,” she says, staring him down.</p>
<p>Booker looks between Nile and then Nicky and then over at Joe before shaking his head, “I think Joe’s heart is big enough for <em>two </em>best friends,” he says, “As long as you take care of it,” he adds, “Though with the fondness that he talks about you, I don’t think I have to worry.”</p>
<p>“You’re right,” Nile says, “He’s got a heart too big for his own good,” she nods solemnly, “I guess we’ve got to protect it then—”</p>
<p>“Can you two please stop talking about me like I’m not here?” Joe asks with a heavy sigh, “You can both be my best friend, it’s <em>okay</em>,” he says, even though secretly he’s <em>pleased</em> with how well Booker and Nile and Nicky are getting along, even if Nicky had somehow gravitated towards Joe again, standing close, but not <em>too </em>close.</p>
<p>Booker opens his mouth to say something but thinks better of it, “Let’s get a game started,” he says, putting the bottles of juice down on the table before digging two quarters of his pocket. “Who’s up first?”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Somehow as the night progresses, everyone loosens up and Joe’s taking a breather with Nile while Nicky and Booker play a competitive game of pool that allows for various nuanced rules that neither Nile nor Joe could make heads of.</p>
<p>“So,” Nile says, voice low, pleasant, “You basically asked Nicky on a date.”</p>
<p>Joe nearly chokes on his juice, wiping his sleeve across his mouth to catch any stray drops, “What?” he says, voice raising a little, “I didn’t. I invited him <em>and </em>you out so you two could meet Booker.”</p>
<p>Nile hums teasingly, nodding her head over to where Nicky’s half bent over the pool table, lining up a shot as he says something to Booker (in <em>French </em>even, a fact that shook Joe to the core and pleased Booker to no end), “You’ve been staring pretty hard every single time it’s his turn,” she says easily.</p>
<p>“Well,” Joe says, “I’m sure you have eyes too,” he finally settles on saying, pressing his lips together. “It really wasn’t like that. I promise.”</p>
<p>She holds her hands up, “Oh no please, it’s okay if it’s like that. I helped him pick out the best jeans that really <em>accentuate </em>his assets.” She leans her chin on her hand, “You’re totally welcome to sweep him off of his feet, I mean. The <em>hug</em>.”</p>
<p>A loud cheer from Booker breaks the hush of their conversation and Joe looks over in just enough time to see two of Booker’s balls go into two different pockets, “Look, all I’m saying is, now isn’t the right time. Not for me. And definitely not for Nicky. He’s got his certification coming up. I don’t want to distract him.”</p>
<p>“You’re so sweet,” Nile says with a little happy sigh, fluttering her lashes at him for a moment before she sits up, “Fair enough. I’ll leave you alone about it. Just know that I definitely wouldn’t feel left out if you two decided to become a thing.”</p>
<p>Joe shakes his head, “Thanks Nile,” he says, somewhere between dry and sincere, “I appreciate your insight.”</p>
<p>She grins and Nicky cheers twice as loud as Booker and when Joe looks over, he sees Booker with his face in his hands, a nearly even split of their respective balls still on the table but no eight ball.</p>
<p>“Oh Booker,” Joe says as he stands up and moves over to the table, patting him on the shoulder. “Dish duty for the next two weeks.”</p>
<p>Booker splutters, “What? No! I wasn’t even <em>playing </em>a game with <em>you</em>.”</p>
<p>Nicky, who’d been leaning against the table, his pool cue held in his other hand, “You could always do the dishes at the station for me,” he says, somewhat sweetly, chiming in before Joe could.</p>
<p>“<em>No</em>,” Booker says sharply, and then he shoos Joe away and pulls two more quarters out of his pocket, “Let’s go again,” he says after Nicky’s pushed all the balls into the pockets. “Loser pays next time.”</p>
<p>Nicky straightens up and tilts his head, considering, “Deal,” he says finally, holding his hand out for Booker to shake.</p>
<p>Joe steps back, allows himself to bask in the warmth of two out of three of his favorite people interacting.</p>
<p>=======</p>
<p>“I guess I’m paying next time,” Nicky says softly as they stand huddled up under the awning above the doorway, their shoulders pressed together, “If you’re alright with me and Nile joining you two next week, that is.”</p>
<p>Joe’s mouth feels dry and his heart thumps heavy against his ribs, “Oh Nicky,” he says, turning so he’s facing Nicky, “I’d love to have you and Nile here with us again,” he murmurs, reaching out and brushing his fingertips against his shoulder.</p>
<p>Nicky’s smile is small but bright, the corners of his lips turned up, his eyes half closed, a peek of greenish grayish peering up at him.</p>
<p>He’s not sure how long they sit there, but soon Nile is calling for Nicky and Booker’s squared away their tab at the bar, everyone donning their jackets as Nile and Booker strike up a conversation about the best types of cinema.</p>
<p>“Joe,” Nicky’s voice is soft, barely heard over what Nile and Booker are talking about, but Joe turns, his attention on Nicky. “Saturday, Andy’s rented the burn building for us to practice interior fire in, especially for those of us getting our certification soon. Typically, we make it a big thing, we grill at the site after training is done and we have family or friends join us during so they can watch. Something about letting people know their tax dollars are going to good things.” He pauses and licks his lips, “Do you want to come?”</p>
<p>Joe’s heart thumps heavy again and before he can overthink, he nods, “I’d love to,” he says softly, “Uh, give me your phone?” he asks, somewhat hesitant. “For my number. So you can text me with details.”</p>
<p>Nicky’s smile softens and he pulls his phone out of the pocket of his now dry green jacket, passing it over to Joe—the screen is a little scuffed and when it lights up, there’s a photo of Nicky, Andy and another woman standing together while Nicky has a ridiculous looking balloon hat on—he doesn’t say anything and quickly pulls up his contacts, saving his information in it.</p>
<p>“Now you can text me,” Joe says before realizing what he’d said, “With uh, the location and time. And…I’ll meet you there?”</p>
<p>Pocketing his phone again, Nicky pulls the folds of his jacket closer, leans into Joe briefly as if huddling for warmth, “Of course,” he says softly. “I’ll see you Saturday?” he asks, tilting his head a little as he rocks back onto his heels.</p>
<p>“See you Saturday,” Joe agrees softly, smiling at Nicky before hauling him in for another hug, this one just as warm and <em>right </em>as the first one.</p>
<p>======</p>
<p>Joe snaps a photo of the three twelve packs of tacos sitting in his passenger seat, sending it to Nile with a question mark—its Saturday and he’s sitting in the parking lot of the local Taco Bell/KFC, and he’s got about thirty minutes before he’s due to head out to the burn building.</p>
<p>Nicky had vehemently denied him needing to bring anything, waving off his concerns with a <em>we usually take care of the food Joe, it’s no problem</em> before steering the conversation towards what foods he liked and what he didn’t like while Nile had just raised her eyebrow.</p>
<p><em>Bring tacos </em>she had said, and now here he was, waiting for—</p>
<p>
  <em>Omg yes!!!!!!! </em>
</p>
<p>Joe snorts quietly and darkens the screen on his phone, placing it in one of the cup holders before he starts the car.</p>
<p>The burn building itself wasn’t too far, even if he had to drive through the older part of town that made him feel more uneasy than anything—something about the amount of tall and imposing churches and the possibly haunted small town museum sitting right in the middle of downtown; luckily though, once he’d turned down the road by the small college, the overall <em>oppressing </em>feeling lifts, and he feels somewhat peaceful the rest of the ride.</p>
<p><em>It’s not really an impressive building,</em> Nicky had said with a little shrug, sitting in one of the chairs beside Joe only a couple of days before when he’d come over to the station with a small bag and a case of paints, <em>it’s what is the word…an old store? From the early days of this town. It has several rooms and two levels, and the walls are this thick brick that make it a very good place to practice in because it keeps the heat and smoke inside. </em></p>
<p>Joe had just hummed, a little smile on his lips, carefully mixing several colors together to match the red of the engine he was due to paint soon as he listened to Nicky talk about the properties of older buildings and how the certification course he was due to take soon had an area specific section of it, because most of the buildings and houses in his district were build before the sixties and that fighting fire inside one of them was completely different than fighting fire in a newer building.</p>
<p><em>You’re very passionate about this,</em> Joe had said sometime later when Nicky had paused to take a breath, glancing up from his paint and over to Nicky who looked <em>flustered</em>.</p>
<p><em>I didn’t realize you were still listening, </em>Nicky commented softly, biting his lower lip, <em>It’s getting closer and I’m getting nervous I think, about forgetting something. </em></p>
<p>Joe glanced over at the text book sitting on the table, color coded post it notes sticking out from the top, different colored tabs sticking out the side, <em>I think you’re going to do fine, Nicky</em>.</p>
<p>As he pulled up the long gravel drive to the burn building, he spotted Nile’s ambulance and one of the trucks from the station sitting closer to the building—a white painted brick thing that looked somewhat out of place among the three trailer parks just beyond the fence surrounding the lot the building sat on.</p>
<p>He finds a place among a cluster of cars to park and shuts his engine off—there’s a lot of people here and he’s not quite <em>nervous </em>about it, but he does feel somewhat out of place in the sense that he’s <em>new </em>to this, to being around people who this very thing seems to be their <em>life</em>.</p>
<p>(And he thinks back to that first night, Nicky talking wistfully about finding a department that was paid, making this his <em>career</em>.)</p>
<p>The quiet of his car gives way to the general murmur of the people milling around the lot as he opens the door and gets out of his car, dragging the three packs of tacos with him in one hand while holding both his keys and phone in the other.</p>
<p>Using his hip to push the door closed, he takes a breath before expelling it and his nerves slowly, shaking himself a little before he heads up to where he can see Nile sitting in the back of the ambulance, talking with Dizzy.</p>
<p>Before he can get there though, Nicky sees him first, bowing out of a conversation with a small group of firefighters to come over to him, a small smile on his lips, “<em>Joe</em>,” he says as he comes to stop in front of him; he’s wearing the thick brown turnout gear pants and the suspenders are hanging down at his sides, his jacket is nowhere to be seen and he’s got his helmet placed haphazardly on his head. “You made it.”</p>
<p>Joe smiles back, stepping close enough to bump his shoulder against Nicky’s, “Of course I did,” he says simply, “You look…” he trails off, “Am I late?” he asks, smelling the subtle scent of smoke wafting off of Nicky’s skin. “I uh. Stopped to get tacos because Nile asked, but I didn’t think it set me back that much.”</p>
<p>Nicky laughs then and shakes his head, the sound low and soothing, “No, no,” he says, “We had to light the fire. It’s in a uh. It’s in a barrel downstairs—it’s just hay and some other flammable material, but it won’t ignite too much, just create a lot of smoke.” He waves a hand back towards the building, “Now we have to close the door and wait until the building is sufficiently smoky enough to attempt training.”</p>
<p>Glancing down at the cardboard carrier that the tacos are in, Nicky shakes his head, “Nile really has you wrapped around her finger,” he says somewhat teasingly as he reaches out to take two of them from Joe, “Oh well,” he reaches out with his free hand and wraps his fingers around Joe’s wrist, gently tugging him in the direction of the ambulance, “Let’s go then. Give Nile her tacos. I can show you more of the building since the fire isn’t external,” he pauses, “If uh. You’re in the mood to listen to me talk about this more, I mean.” He licks his lips, “No pressure though. If you want to hang out with Nile instead.”</p>
<p>The heat of Nicky’s hand around his wrist clouds Joe’s head for a moment, the firm yet gentle grip the single point he’s able to focus on, “Oh Nicky,” he says, somewhat of a sigh, “I’d love to hear you talk about it.” He lets Nicky lead, falling into step beside him, staying close even with Nicky’s hand leaves his wrist, “I enjoy hearing you talk, it’s very interesting to hear about something that someone’s passionate about.”</p>
<p>Though neither of them comment on it, Joe thinks back to the numerous times he’d gone to the store Nicky works at to air all of his woes about his upcoming gallery, going on tangents about color theory and composition that Nicky patiently listened to, standing under the shitty bright lights of the small twenty four hour gas station, and though the hideous blue of his work shirt kind of hurt Joe’s <em>eyes</em>, he couldn’t quite stop looking at him—looking at Nicky look at him while he talks.</p>
<p>Nicky hums and drops the tacos off on a long, white folding table, motioning for Joe to do the same before he offers a wave to Nile and Nicky’s hand settles around Joe’s wrist again, gently tugging him off to the side, away from the crowds of people, talking lowly about the various entrance points to the building—the window on the far side of the building that leads into what used to be a store room, the front entrance that’s mostly boarded up and involves wiggling through a small opening at the bottom and the back entrance that opens easily and is the best access point—leading straight down the stairs even though that involves having to crawl down them on your belly because of how the smoke drifts upwards.</p>
<p>“It’s only practice but even then, if there’s low visibility when you go inside the real thing, it’s better to be on the ground so you can <em>see </em>things,” Nicky’s saying, his helmet skewed to the side a little bit more as he gestures, “It’s not the same <em>everywhere</em>, but here at least, if there’s a lot of smoke we travel in as far as we can go before dropping down. Especially if we get there early enough and there’s no actual damage to the inside.”</p>
<p>Joe’s leaning against the fence, watching Nicky talk, his hands moving as the words fall from his lips, something fond settling in his belly as Nicky’s accent grows thicker the more he speaks, the way he slips into Italian when he can’t quite seem to find the right English words for his explanation.</p>
<p>“What if there’s debris already on the ground,” Joe asks when Nicky pauses to take a breath, “Do you still crawl or…” he trails off, giving Nicky another opening—content to hear Nicky talk as long as he would.</p>
<p>Nicky flashes him a bright grin, leaning against the fence a few inches away from Joe, “Well,” he starts, before he launches into a long explanation on how depending on what type of debris there was, if a central support beam had been damaged or if it was just something as simple as furniture that had fallen in the way, “Usually if the structure is collapsed in but we still need to go inside, as long as it’s sound enough to have someone inside, we’re as long to the ground as possible. If we have to rescue anyone then it’s all done by pulling someone over to the hose and guiding them out of the house that way.”</p>
<p>He pauses, fidgeting a little, “We typically record our training sessions, so this one will be recorded, especially since most of us here are going through Firefighter I soon,” he drums his fingertips against his thigh, “Would you be adverse of watching the footage with me one day? Just so you could get a general idea of how it works. I mean, I’m not that good with explaining, especially the rescue part and it’s easier to see it, anyway.” He straightens a little then, “But if I’m annoying you please feel free to ask me to back off. I don’t want you to think that you have to listen to me ramble because of my nerves and the upcoming anxiety of a week long certification course.”</p>
<p>That catches Joe’s attention first, “A week?” he asks, surprised. “Really?” He reaches out and rests his hand on Nicky’s shoulder, squeezing, “And we’ve gone over this Nicky.” He murmurs gently, “You listen to me complain at you about my art. It’s an honor you trust me enough to air your worries and information about something that’s important.”</p>
<p>Nicky sinks into Joe’s touch, “Of course, Joe,” he murmurs, making no move to lean away from Joe’s hand, “And yes, a week. We go down to the capital and do the certification there at the academy. Because they have everything needed to run the tests and activities we have to pass in order to gain certification.” He rubs a hand over his eyes, “I’m not looking forward to it, but luckily there’ll be several people from my department going as well, and the ones surrounding it.”</p>
<p>“I don’t want to jinx it for you,” Joe says with a soft laugh, “But you’ve been studying hard and the few times I’ve been at the station when you guys are training, you’re definitely putting your all into it,” he offers softly, “So I think you’re going to do better than you expect you’ll do. You’re going to get there, and the nerves will ease away into something more manageable.” He nudges Nicky a little, “And when you need to let off some excess anxiety, you can call me and talk to me about the differences between fire extinguisher types.”</p>
<p>“Nile told you the story about me talking in my sleep, huh?” Nicky asks with a sigh. “I’m never going to live it down.”</p>
<p>“Mm, she said you were very nervous about your 1152 certification class and you were sleep talking upstairs after getting off of a double shift and passing out shortly into your bloodborne pathogens certification.” Joe says with a little grin. “It’s cute.”</p>
<p>Nicky looks at him and narrows his eyes, “Now you’re just being a dick,” he says, leaning away from Joe.</p>
<p>Joe grins widely, “Guilty,” he says, letting his hand drop between them again, “But seriously Nicky, anytime you need to talk while you’re gone, I’m there for you. Even if it’s late.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, Joe,” Nicky murmurs, reaching up and pulling his helmet off, running his fingers through his sweaty hair, “I hope you’re ready for a four am call where I freak out about having to go inside of an actual burning building while still half asleep.”</p>
<p>Joe hums, just watching Nicky, “Oh definitely,” he says, “I’ll be in one of those periods where I get little sleep because I’m trying to finish several paintings before deadline hits.” He taps his chin, “Also I’ll be back in my house so it’s not like I’ll be disturbing anyone.”</p>
<p>“Oh?” Nicky asks, “Your house is almost done?”</p>
<p>Joe makes a noise in agreement, “Quynh is a miracle worker,” he says, “And way more competent than the guys my insurance company suggested.”</p>
<p>Nicky grins, “Told you,” he says. “She’s fantastic. She’ll be here today too, if you want to catch up with her outside of a professional environment. It’ll make things easier when Andy decides to invite you to the renewal of their vows in a few months.”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Talking with Nicky only lasts for another thirty or so minutes before Dizzy’s yelling for him to come and get geared up and Nicky just shrugs a little sheepishly, bumping his shoulder against Joe’s before pushing away from the fence and jogging over to where there’s a jacket and numerous other things set out on the ground.</p>
<p>Nile finds him while he’s watching Nicky pull a cream colored hood over his head, pulling it until it rests around his neck, his hair visible, “You and Nicky are getting close,” she observes, but it’s just that, an observation, no intent behind it.</p>
<p>Joe hums softly, watching Nicky zip his coat up after shoving his arms through the sleeves, squinting a little at the way his thumbs stick out of little holes in the end of the sleeves—feeling the urge to draw him, he quickly stamps it down, deciding that here isn’t the right place.</p>
<p>“It’s nice to see you two bond,” Nile says as she leans against the fence beside him, “I don’t think it’s solely because you two decided to become friends or anything, but it’s definitely helping that he has someone he feels comfortable enough to talk to outside the department. Especially in a little town like this where anything you say can be taken the wrong way.”</p>
<p>Nicky’s slinging a heavy looking harness across his shoulders with a bottle attached to the back, his helmet is on the ground beside him as he snaps the clasps on the harness together, a mask resting just over his shoulder, “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience,” Joe says, “I’d never take what he says to anyone, even if its grievances about his department or whatever. Not that he has many complaints. Mostly about the council, but apparently, there’s a lot of people who have strong opinions about them anyway.”</p>
<p>Nile hums and watches Nicky pull the mask over his face, tugging the hood up over his hair now, covering that and the sides of the mask before pressing the palm of his hand over the hole in the front.</p>
<p>“What’s he doing?” Joe asks, curious.</p>
<p>“Making sure there’s a seal,” She says, “It’d suck to not check and then you get into the building and realize that you’re breathing in smoke.”</p>
<p>Joe makes a soft noise, “Gotcha,” he says. “Really, Nile, I have no ill intent towards Nicky, if that’s what you’re worried about.”</p>
<p>Nicky’s snapping his helmet into place before grabbing the breathing apparatus and attaching it to the mask, taking one deep breath before he turns, offering a wave in Joe and Nile’s direction before jogging towards the building where Andy and one of the other firefighters stand by the door, waiting.</p>
<p>“Oh, Nicky’s an adult, I’m not worried about that,” she says with a wave of her hand, “I’m just saying…be careful. The closer you get, you might hear rumors but…don’t believe anything, yeah? I mean, for a while there was a rumor that Andy slept with the last chief to get the position after he retired but…” she trails off, making a face, “That was her <em>dad</em>. People are stupid and petty in this small town.”</p>
<p>An understanding dawns on him then, “Ah,” he says, “You’re worried I’d take something to heart?” he asks and Nile sort of grimaces—and Joe knows then he’d caught her meaning correctly.</p>
<p>“I didn’t <em>say </em>that,” she says. “But Nicky’s a good guy and I’d hate for the town to tarnish what you two have.” She waves her hand, “Like, the town is shittier to people like me and you, but he’s definitely met his fair share of the <em>Speak English </em>crowd, or people thinking he’s an idiot because he has an accent.”</p>
<p>There’s loud shouting, and Joe and Nile pause for a moment to look up as Andy opens the door and smoke billows out in rolling waves—Joe’s stomach turns a little at the smell and Nile grabs his hand, squeezes it tightly; and then, like clockwork, Nicky and Dizzy both drop to the ground and crawl through the doorway, Nicky at the front, his hand wrapped tightly around the nozzle of the hose as he and Dizzy drag it into the building.</p>
<p>Once they disappear inside, Joe turns back to Nile, “Honestly? Unless it comes from him or someone he trusts, I don’t really care to hear what other people have to say about him.” He says with a finality. “He’s a good guy and I enjoy being around him. If he’s harboring some super dark secret, then I trust he’ll tell me on his own time. Not wait for me to hear it from the grape vine.”</p>
<p>Nile just grins, squeezing Joe’s hand tightly, “I knew I liked you for a reason, Joe.”</p>
<p>======</p>
<p>As the evening settles into something cooler, the sun sinking slowly over the horizon, one of the firefighters from a different station turn on two large work lights, illuminating the lot with bright light that stretches to the farthest corners—Joe and Nile had retired to sit in the back of the ambulance away from the chill of the night, Quynh joining them sometime later, wrapped in a black coat with reflective tape, Andy’s name printed across the back of it.</p>
<p>They’d lost sight of Nicky among the crowd sometime between the third and fourth round of search and rescue training, everyone clothed in the same bulky brown gear making it hard to differentiate between who was who.</p>
<p>“It gets kind of boring when you’re watching, since you can’t see inside,” Nile says with a little shrug, “But a lot of us use this particular event as a way to catch up with people since we all work full time jobs in between volunteering.”</p>
<p>Joe, for the most part, was having a good time anyway, he’d grabbed an extra sketchbook from his car, sketching rough outlines of the building, shading in several silhouettes of the various crews milling around as he listened to Nile and Quynh speak quietly behind him, their voices filling in the quiet spaces of the ambulance like a calming balm.</p>
<p>“Oh, I think Nicky’s coming over here,” Quynh says sometime later, loud enough to draw Joe’s attention away from the billowing clouds of smoke he was trying to get down into the sketch. “I think we’re wrapping it up for the night.”  </p>
<p>Joe lets the tip of his pencil rest against the page as he looks up just in time to see Nicky collapse onto his back in the grass by the back of the ambulance; his brown coat opened, helmet off, his hair plastered half to his head with sweat with faint red lines on the outsides of his cheeks from the air mask being stuck to his face.</p>
<p>“Did you have fun?” Nile asks, her grin widening when Nicky mumbles something in Italian, covering his face with one of his arms for a brief moment.</p>
<p>Joe watches as Nicky lets his arm fall back into the grass, the ends of the coat spread out around him, so his t-shirt is visible—there’s a dark stain of sweat around the neck of it and something about that just makes Joe ache a little inside. </p>
<p>“It’s a lot of work,” Nicky says, still somewhat out of breath, “But it was very pleasing to be a part of.”</p>
<p>Nile snorts, “Uh huh, Andy let you go through the window, didn’t she?” she asks, hopping out of the back of the ambulance so she can stand by Nicky, nudging him with her boot. “Come on, I know you just finished what, ten or so runs into the building but they’re going to run out of food if you keep laying here.”</p>
<p>Nicky groans softly, shaking his head, “No, no, let me lay here a few minutes,” he says, waving a hand in her direction. “If they run out of food, I’ll just cook something when I get home,” he mumbles, accent thicker, heavier as he speaks around a yawn.</p>
<p>Joe slips off of the back of the ambulance, placing his sketchbook down, “I’m heading over there now, want me to grab you something?” he asks, not quite sure why he feels something like <em>nerves </em>settle over him. “It’s really no problem,” he adds quickly when Nicky doesn’t say anything.</p>
<p>A sleepy sort of smile crosses Nicky’s mouth finally and he peers up at Joe almost reverently, “If you’re sure, Joe,” he murmurs.</p>
<p>“Of course, Nicky,” Joe says, nearly breathless himself at the way the light around them catches the greenbluegray of his eyes. “I’ll be right back.”</p>
<p>Navigating the line of tables filled with food and the people milling around them is almost enough to take his mind off of Nicky’s smile, but not quite—and Joe finds himself committing it to memory, itching for his sketchbook once more so he can get it down more permanently.</p>
<p>There’s several containers of homemade salads of all kinds and he finds a Styrofoam bowl to fill with some macaroni salad and a couple of rolls for himself—there’s a table specifically for grilled meats and he finds a decently sized piece of chicken for Nicky, along with a few scoops of potato salad and some beans.</p>
<p>He finds a bottle of apple juice in the bottom of a cooler and grabs himself a bottle of water before he balances Nicky’s plate and his bowl carefully, making his way back to the ambulance.</p>
<p>Nile and Quynh are nowhere to be seen, and Nicky’s sitting up finally, leaning back against the ambulance, his head tilted back, exposing the line of his throat, his eyes closed—Joe clears his throat quietly as he nears him, not wanting to startle Nicky.</p>
<p>“Thank you, Joe,” Nicky says softly as he sits up properly, reaching out with soot stained hands to accept the plate and the juice from Joe. He’d discarded his turnout coat and he looks almost <em>vulnerable</em> sitting there only in pants and suspenders and boots, carefully shoveling food into his mouth in a way that Joe’s never seen.</p>
<p>“Couldn’t let you go hungry,” Joe says, navigating around Nicky to climb back up into the back of the ambulance, taking his previous place. “There’s a lot up there so let me know if you want anything else when you’re done.”</p>
<p>Nicky smiles and shifts until his back is resting against the side of Joe’s leg, “Is this okay?” he asks, glancing up at Joe with a curious expression and Joe, Joe’s helpless to do anything but nod and take a bite of his own macaroni salad to keep himself from saying something ridiculous like <em>I want to be a person in your life that you can lean on when you need to rest. </em></p>
<p>-</p>
<p>The neighboring department shoos away everyone nearly an hour later, citing it’s their turn to clean up and pack things away, feel free to take whatever you want if you want some leftovers—the town’s small enough that nearly everyone knows everyone, and Tupperware always ends up back in the hands of its owner.</p>
<p>Nicky rubs at his eyes and Andy shoots him a look, “Have you been sleeping, kid?” she asks, narrowing her eyes somewhat suspiciously but Nicky just waves off her concern.</p>
<p>“I’m sleeping fine, boss,” he says with a tired little smile. “I’ve been picking up a few extra shifts though,” he pauses, yawning widely. “Nothing I can’t handle, though.”</p>
<p>Andy’s stern expression melts and she cups a hand around the back of his neck, “Oh kid,” she murmurs, “Let Quynh take you home, okay?”</p>
<p>Joe’s not <em>trying </em>to listen, but he is right there, standing by Nicky who’s now wearing the same jacket he’d worn the night they went out and played pool together, his gear tucked away in his red duffle bag by his feet. “I can do it,” he says instead, before he can stop himself. “Take Nicky home, I mean.” He flounders a little when Andy looks at him, “Quynh said that you and she are supposed to go do something after this. I’m sure you need to change first, and uh. I’d be alright with dropping Nicky off. It’s on the way for me.”</p>
<p>Andy doesn’t say anything at first, but then she grins, “<em>Ah</em>,” she says, “If it’s on the way for you and you’re volunteering…” she trails off and then squeezes the back of Nicky’s neck, “Let Joe take you home, alright?” she says, looking over at Nicky again, the concern back on her face.</p>
<p>Nicky hums softly and leans into Andy’s touch, “I’ll let Joe take me home,” he mumbles and then he looks over at Joe with a dopey sort of sleepy grin on his lips, “Thank you, Joe,” he whispers.</p>
<p>Andy looks between the two of them and Joe steps in when Andy steps away, letting Nicky lean into him, “I’ll leave him in your…” she pauses, “<em>very </em>capable hands,” she winks at Joe and then she’s disappearing into the small crowd of people milling around the area still.</p>
<p>“Alright you,” Joe says, slipping his arm around Nicky’s waist, “Let’s get you to my car,” he carefully turns the two of them around and together, they manage to stumble their way to Joe’s car, Nicky reaching out to pat Joe’s shoulder in thanks as he steps away and opens the door to get inside. “I’ll be right back,” Joe promises before he turns away and goes back to grab Nicky’s bag.  </p>
<p>Once the bag is safely in Joe’s trunk and Nicky’s seatbelt is bucked, Joe starts the car, turning the heat on low to fight off the chill in the air, “You live in the apartments across from the courthouse, right?” he asks, remembering their very first conversation.</p>
<p>Nicky hums softly, leaning his head against the window, “I do,” he murmurs with a secretive smile. “You remembered.”</p>
<p>Joe swallows heavily and waits until he’s on the road before he answers with a soft, “Of course I did.”</p>
<p>“Figured you were dealing with your own stuff that night,” he mumbles, “Just trying to keep you distracted from it.”</p>
<p>“You did a pretty good job at that,” he says, shaking his head, “Honestly, I never did really thank you for taking the time to get me somewhere safe,” he admits, “I mean, I’d like to think we’re <em>friends </em>at the very least now, but I should have bought you lunch or something like that in return.”</p>
<p>Nicky waves a hand tiredly as he sits up, “Water under the bridge,” he mumbles, “I’m not even sure if that’s the right expression but. Either way, you don’t owe me anything Joe. I was just glad that I could help you.” He rubs a hand across his face, “It’s what I’ve always wanted to do. Help people.”</p>
<p>Joe glances over at Nicky from the corner of his eye, the shadows playing across his features, eyes closing as he leans against the window again, “I think you’re doing a good job, Nicky,” he says softly. “Even without the certification…all the stories I’ve heard, sounds like you’re helping a lot of people in your own way.”</p>
<p>Nicky hums, a small smile playing across his lips, “Oh, you mean the calls where I stand there and look angry while I try to keep cars from coming onto the scene because no one in this town knows when to mind their own business?”</p>
<p>“Well, I guess when you put it that way…” Joe trails off teasingly, “Really though, Nile said you’re the only one people don’t drive past.”</p>
<p>Nicky waves a hand again, “It’s all because word got around that I’d break their windshield in if they don’t stop,” he mumbles. “Put my helmet through one person’s windshield because they wouldn’t stop during one of my first calls when I joined.”</p>
<p>Joe can’t help the laugh that escapes, sudden and loud and Nicky jumps beside him, startled a little, “Shit, sorry, <em>sorry</em>,” he says, reaching out blindly and patting Nicky’s shoulder. “Sorry, just. The image of you throwing your helmet through someone’s windshield is very funny.”</p>
<p>Nicky rubs at his forehead, yawning loudly as he sits up again, his shoulders hunched forward, “It was very effective either way. The person didn’t like it, but I’d told them to turn around several times by that point.” He looks over at Joe, tilting his head. “People in this town don’t listen that well.”</p>
<p>Joe hums, “You’re right about that,” he says. “I don’t think I’ve met half of the people in this town but the second my house caught fire suddenly I’m getting many well wishes from random people in the grocery store. Last week someone paid for my dinner when Booker and I went to the Waffle House.”</p>
<p>Nicky’s nose wrinkles, “Ah, Waffle House,” he says. “At least you saved your money, huh?”</p>
<p>Joe laughs again, this time quieter and more subdued, “No, no, that’s not what I mean, like. I <em>get </em>it. I appreciate people offering to help, but also, I don’t want them to put themselves out for me? I am very fortunate to have the money to replace the things that were damaged and with the check from the insurance company I’m able to get my house fixed.” He taps his fingers against the steering wheel, “I don’t want to seem ungrateful, but it just feels <em>weird </em>to have random strangers pay for my food or wish me well. Especially when I don’t recall telling <em>any </em>of these people what happened. As far as I know there were no news stories about it or anything like that either.”</p>
<p>“The joys of small towns,” Nicky says, “I think it’s like this everywhere? Smaller towns, word travels faster…one person tells their family and then suddenly it’s everywhere.” He reaches out, patting Joe’s knee briefly, squeezing it before pulling his hand back, “The people in this town mean well, I think? Or they’re just trying to get good points in with their God.”</p>
<p>There’s probably a story there, Joe thinks as he notices the stilted way Nicky had said <em>their God</em>, but he doesn’t press, just hums, “I’m not sure I like having all these people knowing about my tragic house fire,” he says with a sigh. “Someone mentioned to me in the grocery store that they could send their grandson out to look at the wiring in my house to make sure it doesn’t happen again.” He makes a face and shakes his head, “No offence to them, but I’d rather have someone who knows electrical work to actually look at it.” He pauses, “Especially since the lady who offered this to me is the same one who <em>always </em>locks her car when she sees me walk past it?”</p>
<p>Nicky makes a face, “Yeah, the town is…definitely full of a lot of people who shouldn’t be trusted to really…do anything for you.” He tilts his head back against the seat and looks over at Joe, “Nile always says to keep those people at a safe distance, otherwise they’ll double cross you once they <em>really </em>get to know you.”</p>
<p>“Well, I think I’m okay with the people I’ve found so far,” Joe says, looking over at Nicky as he pulls to a stop at a red light, “Just gotta make sure I don’t piss you off somehow if I want to keep my windshield intact.”</p>
<p>Nicky gives him an unimpressed look, shaking his head, “You’re going to hold this over my head like the fire extinguisher thing, aren’t you?” he asks.</p>
<p>As the light turns green, Joe grins at Nicky before focusing on the road again as he presses the gas, “We’re almost there,” he says. “Do you need help up to your apartment? Wouldn’t want you falling asleep on the stairs or something.”</p>
<p>“My apartment is ground floor,” Nicky says with a soft hum, “You should be getting back to Booker’s soon, anyway. Don’t you have that meeting with the man who’s displaying your paintings?”</p>
<p>Joe groans quietly, “I was trying to forget about that,” he says with a sigh. “But thank you for reminding me anyway.” He flicks his turn signal on and turns into Nicky’s apartment complex, “But it is pretty late…and the meeting is unfortunately at six am,” he sighs again, “The life of a painter is just early meetings after late nights of throwing paint at a canvas and hoping it looks okay.”</p>
<p>When Joe pulls up in front of the entrance to the building, Nicky removes his seat belt, “I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” he says comfortingly, patting Joe’s shoulder. “Thank you for bringing me home. Text me when you get back to Booker’s, so I know you made it safe, alright?”</p>
<p>Nicky’s hand slips off of Joe’s shoulder and he grabs Nicky’s wrist briefly, squeezing it, “I had a good time tonight,” he says softly. “Thank you for inviting me.”</p>
<p>Nicky stares at him, illuminated by the street light behind him, “You’re welcome, Joe,” he murmurs. “Thank <em>you </em>for coming.” He shifts his wrist in Joe’s grip and rubs his thumb gently against where Joe’s pulse is thrumming. “Text me,” he repeats, voice soft before he carefully shakes his wrist free and gets out of the car, grabbing his bag from the trunk.</p>
<p>Joe waits, sits there until Nicky disappears inside the building with one last wave and then, almost on autopilot, he drives back to Booker’s—he waits until he’s inside the apartment, changed into a t-shirt and a pair of sweats and curled up under the blanket on Booker’s pullout couch before he texts Nicky.</p>
<p>
  <em>Made it to Book’s. Thanks again for tonight. </em>
</p>
<p>Nicky doesn’t text back, but that’s fine—it’ll be the first thing Nicky sees when he wakes up tomorrow and <em>that </em>is enough for Joe.</p>
<p>======</p>
<p>Joe’s at the Waffle House with Booker again, picking his way through soggy, half cooked eggs when the door opens and two people come inside—as they pass the table, he catches snatches of their conversation, something about a firefighter from another department falling into an indoor pool during a big structure fire two nights ago.</p>
<p>“Poor guy,” Booker mumbles from where he’s half asleep over his own eggs, the heel of his hand pressed almost uncomfortably against one of his eyes as he contemplates the last twenty three minutes of his hour long lunch break.</p>
<p>Joe hums quietly, grabbing for the ketchup and debating the merits of warm ketchup on almost cold and runny eggs as the two who’d been talking sit at a table somewhat close to Joe and Booker, their voices going lower as they continue the conversation.</p>
<p>“It was that one guy, the,” The first guy says, snapping his fingers, “Genova? Or something like that? The weird Italian guy. He just took a dive into a pool. Kid’s not even certified to be inside…what the hell was his chief even <em>thinking.” </em></p>
<p>“She wasn’t thinking <em>anything </em>as usual,” the other guy says, shaking his head as he looks down at the laminated menu taped to the table, “I swear that department is a joke sometimes. Gets the least funding and then their joke of a chief sends someone in that doesn’t even have certification and the idiot <em>gets hurt</em>.”</p>
<p>Booker nudges his foot against Joe’s for a brief moment, sitting up straighter as he notices the pinched look on Joe’s face, “You okay?” he asks, switching to French as he glances around the moderately crowded Waffle House. “Are they talking about him?”</p>
<p>Joe’s pinched look gets even more pinched, “I think I’m done eating,” he says morosely the downturn of his mouth deepening as the words slip off of his tongue, “Nile says I shouldn’t listen to what other people say. So, I’m trying not to but I’m…” he trails off.</p>
<p>“You’re worried,” Booker says quietly, flagging down their waitress to get the bill, “Let’s go, yeah? I’ve got to get back to work but you could swing by and see how he’s doing.”</p>
<p>Joe slides out of his seat and takes the bill from Booker, moving over to the register to pay, “I need to run by my place first, the final renovations are being done today and I need to check in first. I’ll text him first.”</p>
<p>Booker hums and passes some cash over to the waitress as a tip and then they leave, back into the weird balmy warm-cold that is the United States south, “Text me later when you find out what’s going on?” he says when they come to a stop by Booker’s car.</p>
<p>“You got it Book. I’ll let you know how he’s doing.” He tugs his jacket closed, “I know he’s probably going to ignore anything bad said about him like that, or whatever, but it just. It makes me feel…” he shakes his head, “It’s not a good feeling.”</p>
<p>Booker pats Joe’s shoulder, “I hate to say it, but you care about him. Of course, you’re going to feel weird if you hear rumors about him.” He pulls back and opens the door to his car, “I really need to go now, see you tonight, Joe.”</p>
<p>Joe steps back as Booker closes the door and starts the car, “See you later, Book,” he says with a wave before he’s backtracking over to the other side of the parking lot where he’d parked.</p>
<p>
  <em>Hey Nicky, heard something while I was eating lunch today. Just checking in on you. Mind if I swing by later?</em>
</p>
<p>The text goes unanswered, but Joe doesn’t think much of it—Nicky works third shift, he volunteers full time…he’s <em>busy </em>and Joe respects that. The worry sits in the pit of his stomach but he doesn’t let it overwhelm him.</p>
<p>In fact, by the time he reaches his house and parks by one of the three trucks parked in his front yard, the worry has eased itself into something easily pushed aside as focus shifts towards the last remaining repairs of his house.</p>
<p>“Three days,” Quynh proudly says as he finds his way to the kitchen where she’s steadily installing new cabinet doors, “Two if we hurry but I don’t want to rush anything and mess something up.”</p>
<p>Joe leans against the counter, also new, tracing shapes across the smoothness of the countertop, “I appreciate your need to take your time,” he says, “I think one fire is enough for me.”</p>
<p>“Oh no worries Joe,” Quynh says, “The wiring is impeccable. We’ll have someone come out and make sure it’s all up to code before we release the keys back to you.” She looks back at him, a smile on her face, “Like they should have done when you bought the house.”</p>
<p>It’s an easy jab, something Joe had lamented about to her during one of the first appointments he’d taken once he’d hired Quynh to do the renovation work.</p>
<p>“It <em>was </em>a good deal,” Joe says with a small pout. “Besides, I have the best in town working on it now, right?”</p>
<p>Quynh rolls her eyes, “Get out of here with that,” she says, waving her hand at him as she wields a drill in the other. “Tell me, how’s your art going?” she asks. “I’ve seen the progress pictures of the one painting you’re doing for Andromache, but what about the ones for the showcase you’ve got coming up?”</p>
<p>“It’s not a <em>showcase</em>,” Joe says somewhat flippantly, “It’s really just three pieces for a small, private gallery a few towns over. They’re all coming along fine though. I don’t typically take photos of my works in progress unless it’s in conjunction with a commission I’m working on.” he grins a little sheepishly, “But the pieces are going fine—I’m sure Booker’ll be glad when I don’t have canvasses spread all over his living room though. Which…between me and you, I’ll be glad too.”</p>
<p>Quynh laughs softly, her shoulders shaking a little, “Ah, well, you’ll definitely have your house back in three days,” she assures him, “Then you can paint in peace. I’m only a little sad about having to replace the flooring in your office because of the fire damage,” she sighs. “You’re only going to get paint everywhere again on the nice new laminate I gave you.”</p>
<p>Joe raises his hands placatingly as he steps away from the counter and moves around the kitchen, “Mind if I take a quick look around?” he asks.</p>
<p>“Go ahead,” Quynh says, waving him off. “Don’t touch the wet paint or anything crazy like that.”</p>
<p>As Joe moves out of the kitchen and towards the finished office, he takes a moment to breathe in the scent of new paint surrounding him, the lack of smoke and what used to be water damaged floors now solid and strong.</p>
<p>He nudges the door to the office open and steps inside—and where there used to be a tiny window there’s now a larger picture window that opens the space and brings in all the natural light, something he’d lamented to Quynh about once during a meeting when he’d gotten a bit off topic.</p>
<p>Honestly, he’s just kind of <em>impressed </em>she’d managed to take his suggestion and run with it all while being under budget still.</p>
<p>As he’s standing in the center of the room, the midday sun shining in through the window, his phone vibrates in his pocket, steady and insistent and as he pulls it out, he notices the screen lit up, a text notification on it.</p>
<p>
  <em>If you’re offering still, I’d love some company. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Of course Nicky, I’m just checking in on how the repairs of my house are going but I’ll be by in about thirty minutes? Need me to bring anything?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>My one vice is that very bad pizza from that chain place in town by that one medical office. Would you mind bringing some? I’ve had quite the time these last few days. </em>
</p>
<p>Joe laughs quietly to himself, shaking his head as he types out a reply.</p>
<p>
  <em>I can imagine. I’ll bring some by with me. Who knew Italians liked the delicacy that is uh. Little Caesars. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh trust me Joe, the irony isn’t lost on me. Thank you though, I’ll see you soon?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Soon! And don’t mention it! That’s what friends are for. </em>
</p>
<p>Joe pockets his phone and heads out of the office, creeping down the hallway to where his bedroom door is slightly ajar—he notices a crew of people inside, putting in windows so he doesn’t go inside, but he takes in the new coat of paint on the walls—a nice cool dark navy color on the wall where the bed will be and the three other walls a lighter gray blue that makes the room look cozier.</p>
<p>He steps back and sighs softly, telling himself that it’s just three more days and he’ll be able to sleep in a bed again, in <em>his </em>bed and it’ll be like this nightmare had never really happened—except, <em>except </em>the nightmares will still come even if the house is repainted, even if the smell of smoke and mildew no longer linger on the walls.</p>
<p>He passes his fingers through his hair as he heads back down the hallway, back towards the kitchen where Quynh is, humming along to the radio set up in the corner of the room, “The place looks amazing,” he says once he’s close enough, “I’m pleasantly surprised you took my complaining about needing more natural light in my office to heart,” he jokes.</p>
<p>Quynh places the drill down onto the counter and turns to look at Joe, “I took ever single one of your complaints to heart,” she says seriously. “When we looked at the house and how everything was set up, my team and I saw some changes that could be made—and when you mentioned these things, I took them to heart and added them into the plans we drew up for the renovations.” She moves around the counter, standing in front of Joe, “What happened to your home was terrible and frightening and being able to change things, add walls or tear them down, give you more natural light, all of these little things you mentioned, if adding these to your home take away the negative memories then I’m glad to do them for you, Joe.”</p>
<p>Joe swallows heavily, feels somewhat choked up as he reaches out for Quynh, his hand falling to her shoulder, “<em>Quynh</em>,” he says and Quynh just smiles up at him and steps into him, wrapping her arms around him tightly.</p>
<p>“You’re part of our family now, Joe. We take care of those important to us,” she murmurs softly into his shirt.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>
  <em>The smell of gasoline and gunpowder permeate the air as Nicky hops out of the truck, dropping his back onto the already soggy ground before he unzips it, pulling out his turnout pants and coat, quickly stepping into them. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“Who’s IC?” he hears Andy call out, her voice loud and strong, always used to speaking that way to be heard. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Nicky shoves his hands into the sleeves of the coat and jams his helmet on his head, leaving his jacket unzipped for now even as he presses his fingers into one of the pockets, trying to find his gloves. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Andy’s now talking to another chief, one from one of the volunteer stations out on the other side of town, a different district, and Nicky moves in to hear what’s being said, even as the smell of gunpowder gets stronger the closer to the blaze he gets. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“It’s a pretty big house. Three stories, a ridiculous amount of square footage, there’s an indoor pool in the building attached to the garage, the blaze started, from what we can tell, in the basement and worked it’s way up.” The chief looks a little disgruntled, “Not sure what caused it, but police have been able to get the homeowner on the phone, they’re out of town but on their way back tonight. Unfortunately for us, the gun safe wasn’t fire proof, hence the gunpowder. Bullets keep firing off every so often. We’re trying to get the blaze down from the outside and by ventilating the roof for now. We’ve got crews stationed every few feet with a hose and they’re switching out when someone gets tired.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Andy nods, the blaze of the fire reflecting off of her white helmet, “That’s why you’re calling in mutual aid,” she says, “There’s a lot of flammables inside. Between the gun and the ammo, there’s probably gas in the garage…” she trails off. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He looks even grimmer as he nods, “This place is a fire cracker waiting to happen.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She nods, “Alright, I’ll get my people geared up and on a line. We defer to you, Chief. Tell us where you want us and we’ll go.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“We need water,” he says, “We’re starting to get low, and we have a line out to a hydrant but if we can manage to not pull from that until we <strong>have </strong>to, I’d prefer it.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Andy nods again, “Nicky, get to the truck, you and Dizzy will run a line out towards the house. It looks like they’ve got the front half covered but we’re going to need more fire power on the back side, especially near the garage.” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“You got it Boss,” he says, clapping Dizzy on the shoulder, the two of them sharing a look before they run back to the truck—Nicky throwing himself up onto the deck, grabbing the hose neatly laid in it’s basket, “I’ll run the line and you start the pressure,” he says as he jumps down, cradling the nozzle between two hands while Dizzy moves behind him to climb up on deck where the controls are. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>There’s an open space, just off to the side, near where the garage transitions into the secondary building and Nicky sets up there, digging his heels into the softened dirt as he raises his hand up in ready, waiting until he feels the kick of the water filling the hose before he shoves the end of it under his arm, giving himself more leverage to open the nozzle. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It kicks back again and he grunts, gritting his teeth as he guides the spray towards an opened window, flames dancing inside the building. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>He feels someone come up behind him, a steady shoulder pressing heavy against the space between his shoulder blades, “I got you Nicky!” Dizzy yells over the commotion, digging her own heels into the dirt as the two of them work to put out the flames as they continue popping up. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It feels like hours, but Nicky knows it’s only been roughly thirty something minutes because someone from another department comes to take over, “Your chief wants to see you!” He calls out as he moves in close so he can take the nozzle from him without stopping the flow. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Nicky pats Dizzy’s shoulder as he goes by, jogging back down the line where Andy’s standing on the deck, keeping an eye on the water level. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>“What did you need, Andy?” he calls out, putting one foot on the rest and pushing himself up, “Need me to take over?” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>She shakes her head, “We’re sending you in,” she says, “I know, you’re not certified, but you’re close and I’ve gotten it okayed by the IC. He knows your credentials and he’s fine with it.” She looks down at Nicky, “We have to send people in now to do internal. We’ve got to find the ignition source and put it out. The IC’s men are exhausted and we need at least six teams to search. If we don’t get this fire out soon, we could be looking at a lot of burnt timber. Think you’re up for it, Nicky?” </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>The grim lines on Andy’s face cause the words to stick as he looks around, taking in the numerous trees surrounding the area—the house sitting on a good couple acres of woods. “I’ve got this,” he says with a solemn nod. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Andy manages a small smile, reaching out and gently knocking a fist against his helmet, “Make me proud.” </em>
</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>“I didn’t make her proud,” Nicky mumbles somewhat mournfully, burying his face in his hands as he hunches in on himself. “I fell into a <em>pool </em>and now I’m the source of gossip.”</p>
<p>Joe had shown up almost an hour ago with two thin crust pizzas and an order of crazy bread and Nicky had let him in when he’d knocked carefully on the door, balancing the pizzas on one hand while his other gently rapped against the wood.</p>
<p>There had been a half empty bottle of wine and an almost empty glass sitting beside it on the coffee table in front of the couch, and Joe had carefully placed the pizzas down onto the table, watching Nicky with a vaguely disguised look of concern.</p>
<p>“I’m drowning my sorrows to cope,” he sighs, pulling his hands away from his face and Joe tries not to look too hard at the line of dark blue bruising along his jaw.</p>
<p>“I wasn’t hurt that bad,” he assures Joe when he notices the other man looking, “I fell into the deep end in full gear and the mask bruised me from impact. It’ll heal but my ego and Andy’s reputation won’t.”</p>
<p>Joe nudges one of the pizza boxes closer to Nicky, “Sounds like you’ve been having a rough few days,” he says, watching Nicky pull the box open and grab for a piece of pizza desperately, shoving most of the squared slice into his mouth. “Mistakes happen though, you know? I don’t think Andy would like if she knew you were beating yourself up over this.”</p>
<p>Nicky reaches for the glass he’d left on the table, draining the rest of the wine from it in one fell swoop, “I know she’s not mad,” he says as he pours another glass, “I <em>know </em>that, and I know mistakes happen and it shouldn’t bother me as much but.” He takes another large drink, swallowing so fast that tears gather in the corners of his eyes, “It’s been a rough few days,” he finally settles on. “A rough few weeks.”</p>
<p>Joe watches Nicky wipe at the corners of his eyes with his sleeve, “You’ve got a lot going on,” he says softly, reaching out to rest his hand on Nicky’s knee, “It’s understandable, Nicky. What does Andy have to say about all of this?”</p>
<p>“That I shouldn’t let the gossip get to me,” Nicky says, swirling the remaining wine around in his glass, “That small towns with these sorts of volunteer stations always have gossip, always have people fighting over what stations should have funding and what shouldn’t. Little mistakes are what get departments shut down, but we were three hours deep into fighting a six hour blaze and even the most seasoned firefighters struggle with keeping a clear head.” He stares down into his glass, letting out a heavy sigh as he leans forward to place it down on the table again, “Andy’s not worried, the council isn’t going to call her ways of leading into question for letting someone without a certification go interior. We were mutual aid and the IC that night didn’t try and get either of us in trouble. He knew I didn’t have a certification, but we were so low on people who <em>could, </em>and I was the <em>closest </em>thing.”</p>
<p>Joe nudges the pizza towards Nicky again, “Seems pretty cut and dry to me,” he says, “No one’s in trouble so the rumors are harmless,” he squeezes Nicky’s knee and pulls away, “Something else bothering you?”</p>
<p>Nicky quietly chews his way through three more slices of pizza, the crunch of the crust the only sound for several long minutes, “I think I’m just <em>very </em>stressed about the certification,” he says quietly, “The certification, the volunteering full time while working full time…I’m at work at least fifty hours a week and the other time I’m not at work? I’m at the station, I’m studying for this exam…there’s training and all these small certification classes I need to have done by the time I go to the capital…” he trails off, taking a deep breath.</p>
<p>Joe waits, quiet and patient as Nicky takes a moment to collect himself, munching on the crispy crust of another slice of pizza.</p>
<p>“I’m not complaining,” Nicky says, “And I’m not saying all this for sympathy or even because I <em>hate </em>it, because…have you ever found something you’re good at? Something that makes <em>sense </em>for you to do?” he asks, looking over at Joe.</p>
<p>Joe thinks about how he makes art for a living, how he sees color and composition in everything he does, and he nods slowly, “I do,” he says. “I know that feeling.”</p>
<p>Nicky looks down at his hands, curling his fingers together and squeezing them tight, “I feel like I was…born to do this? As cliché as it sounds,” he pauses and shakes his head, “Maybe not <em>born</em> to do it but, I think I fell into it at the right time? If that makes sense?” He squeezes his fingers again, “I think I’m getting ahead of myself,” he says with a little sigh. “I don’t have an excuse for why I feel this bad when I know it’s just from being overworked and stressed out about upcoming things…” he uncurls his fingers, reaching out for another piece of pizza, “Sometimes when you make a mistake, it just. Feels heavy?”</p>
<p>Joe shifts on the couch, turning so he can look at Nicky properly, the dark circles under his eyes so very reminiscent of that first night he’d met Nicky, the way he’s still hunched, the way he just exudes both misery and anxiety makes Joe want to reach out and do <em>something</em>.</p>
<p>“Maybe you’ve had enough wine for now,” He says instead, standing up and taking both the bottle and the wine glass, “Do you have to work tonight?”</p>
<p>Nicky falls back against the couch, cradling another piece of pizza to his chest, “No,” he says with a sigh, “Nile made me go to the hospital after it happened,” he mumbles into the cheese and tomato sauce, “I’m off work until the day after tomorrow.”</p>
<p>Joe hums softly, “Good,” he says, “You definitely need to rest and drink water,” he shakes his head, “Or you’re going to wake up tomorrow and regret the almost full bottle of wine you’ve consumed midday in a fit of self-deprecation,” though his words come out teasing, there’s an undercurrent of concern behind them too but Nicky doesn’t say anything, just watches Joe for a moment with a look in his eyes that Joe can’t quite figure out.</p>
<p>“You’re a really good friend, Joe,” he says softly, “I’m glad you came over today.”</p>
<p>Joe smiles back at Nicky before he takes the wine and glass into the kitchen, putting them both away before grabbing a glass and filling it with water from the pitcher in the refrigerator.</p>
<p>“Like I said in my text, I heard something bad and I wanted to come and check in on you. Wanted to hear what happened from the source and see how you’re holding up.” Joe says as he sits on the couch beside Nicky, holding the glass out to him.</p>
<p>Nicky takes the glass and drinks slowly for several moments, pulling away once it’s empty, “Most people wouldn’t think to ask me how I was doing,” he says with a little laugh. “Other than the people at the station, having someone check in on me isn’t something I’m used to.”</p>
<p>“Personally, I wouldn’t talk shit about someone who fell into a pool wearing an extra eighty pounds of gear.” Joe says with a shrug, “But really, I was eating lunch with Booker and someone came in talking about it and…I’m sure they got your last name wrong, but I <em>knew </em>it was about you anyway.” He frowns, “Kind of pissed me off that people would just so easily talk shit about someone getting hurt.”</p>
<p>Nicky snorts quietly, pushing the half empty box of pizza further onto the coffee table so he can place the empty glass down, “This is a small town,” he says, “What else are people supposed to talk about? The nice weather in these parts this time of the year?” He shakes his head, “No, in this town they ridicule people for things, gossip about who’s doing what and where, and <em>sometimes </em>they use their powers to be a decent person but mostly they’re just looking for their next social victim.”</p>
<p>Joe sighs, “So I’ve noticed,” he says, leaning back against the couch, “Do you think you’re going to be okay?” he asks. “I mean when you go back to work and back to the station. No one’s going to give you a hard time, right?”</p>
<p>“Wouldn’t be anything I’m not already used to,” Nicky says with a vague, depreciating smile, “I mean, you weren’t in town when I went on my first call as a first responder and the person I was trying to administer CPR to died right there under my hands,” he tilts his head back against the couch and closes his eyes, “After a while you just…sort of let it roll over you. You have to put on armor and push through,” he opens his eyes again, turning his head so he’s looking at Joe, “But you already know this, don’t you?” he asks softly. “I probably have it easier in the end. Dealing with small town mentalities of small-minded Americans, it can’t be pleasant.”</p>
<p>Joe shakes his head, “We’re not talking about me, okay?” he says gently, “Besides, being shit on by these people, it’s not a competition. Doesn’t matter who’s got it worse. Having your character slandered by other guys on different departments for whatever reason they’re doing it, it’s not something you deserve.”</p>
<p>Nicky’s eyes flutter closed again as he goes quiet after that and Joe lets the silence settle around them, feeling some sort of feeling of calmness and contentedness—and when Nicky’s hand rests tentatively on his knee, Joe allows a small smile to catch at the corner of his lips.</p>
<p>“Hey Joe?” Nicky asks, keeping his voice low as if trying not to disturb anything, “This weekend, a few of us from the station are going a town over to the river,” he murmurs, “Did you want to come with us? Nile should be there too.”</p>
<p>Joe looks over at Nicky who’s very deliberately not looking at Joe, hand resting on Joe’s knee, a slight flush across the bridge of his nose and the curve of his cheeks, “I’d come even if Nile weren’t going,” he says with a little smile, keeping his voice low. “Text me later with the details, okay?”</p>
<p>Nicky finally looks over at Joe, flushing deeper, “Oh,” he says, somewhat dumbstruck, as if he can believe <em>Joe </em>wants to hang out with <em>him, </em>“I will,” he mumbles. “It’s supposed to be warm for once.”</p>
<p>Joe just hums, resting his hand on top of Nicky’s for a brief moment, squeezing his fingers, “I like warm weather,” he says with a secret little smile.</p>
<p>Nicky clears his throat, gently pulling his hand away from Joe’s knee, sitting up properly, “Uh, I was going to watch a few episodes of this uh, one show I’ve been meaning to watch but have never had the time. Do you want to watch with me?”</p>
<p>Joe’s smile widens and he nods, “I’d love to, Nicky.”</p>
<p>======</p>
<p>When Quynh hands the keys to his house back three days later, Joe feels something settle inside him, something click into place at the aspect of finally being <em>home </em>again after weeks of crashing on Booker’s couch.</p>
<p>“You alright?” Quynh asks, nudging his shoulder gently. “You look like you’re going to cry.”</p>
<p>Joe huffs quietly, patting at his cheeks for a moment and taking a deep breath, “I feel like I’m going to,” he says, somewhat wobbly. “I’m just really happy to be home finally. When the fire happened, I didn’t expect I’d be able to…come home so soon? It’s been a little over a month and I’d expected to be out of a home so much longer.” He squeezes his keys in his palm, “I’m a little nervous about the fire happening again even though I <em>know </em>you’ve done everything possible with the wiring to make sure it doesn’t happen again.” He swallows a few times, “The fact that the place doesn’t even look like fire touched it…” he trails off in wonder.</p>
<p>Quynh grins and threads her arm through Joe’s, “I even had the landscapers come out and fix up your front yard,” She says, proud of herself as she motions to the neat row of bushes lining the front of the house, grass looking much brighter and healthier than it had before. “All low maintenance though, as we discussed. You’ve mentioned your black thumb more times than I can keep count of.” She tugs him forward, “As a welcome home gift, the landscape company will come take care of your yard for the next year. Just to make sure the bushes get their chance at a life too.” She teases.</p>
<p>Joe huffs out a loud breath and pulls his arm free so he can wrap it around her shoulders instead, burying his face in Quynh’s hair, “You’ve been so good to me,” he whispers, holding her tightly.</p>
<p>“It’s what you deserve, Joe,” Quynh murmurs back, letting her own arm wrap around his waist, “You came to me with what you expected in your home and trusted me to fix the issues,” she says gently, “Of all the home renovations I’ve done these past few years since starting my business, I can say that helping you out has been the most rewarding.” She pulls away enough so she can see his face, “Everyone deserves a first home that’s safe,” she says kindly.</p>
<p>Joe presses his face further into Quynh’s hair, “You’re really going to make me cry,” he mumbles around a soft laugh. “Working with you has been the easiest thing I’ve ever done,” he admits as he pulls back so he can look down at her properly. “I hope that my house being finished now doesn’t mean that we’ll be able to see each other in a more non-professional setting?” he asks hopefully.</p>
<p>Quynh smiles brightly up at him, “What did I say before, huh? You’re family now Joe. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” She thinks for a moment, “In fact, Andy and I are going to be holding a nice little get together before Nicky goes off to complete his certification,” she says with a sly look. “You should definitely come.”</p>
<p>“Isn’t that in another month?” Joe asks, narrowing his eyes a little at Quynh’s innocent look.</p>
<p>Quynh reaches up and pats Joe’s cheek, “We like to plan ahead,” she says, “Besides, I doubt he’s asked you to come.”</p>
<p>Joe huffs quietly, “Now you’re meddling,” he says, even as he’s unconsciously leaning into Quynh’s hand, “I know what you’re trying to do because Nile’s been unsubtly doing it for the past few weeks,” he mumbles with a slight frown.</p>
<p>Quynh hums and brushes her thumb across the curve of his cheek, “Nile and I just want you to be happy,” she murmurs. “And I think Nicky might be good for you. And you for Nicky.”</p>
<p>“Let me at least get settled back into my home before you and Nile hatch a plan up to lock Nicky and I in the tiny bathroom at the station,” Joe says with a heavy sigh.</p>
<p>“Come to the party,” Quynh says softly, “I’m sure Nicky would want to see you before he leaves town for a whole week.”</p>
<p>Joe gently rests his hand over Quynh’s before pulling away, “I’ll be there,” he says, “No meddling though,” he warns, “If you’re invested in me and Nicky having a relationship then you’ll let us move naturally into it, okay?”</p>
<p>Quynh makes a big show of sighing, “Alright Joe, you drive a hard bargain,” she says. “I’ll let you continue this…courting game you’re doing with Nicky, though I must warn you I can’t stop Nile from meddling. I can only promise <em>I’ll </em>let you make the first move.” She pauses when she hears a car pull up and glances around Joe, a grin splitting her face, “Or <em>maybe</em> Nicky will make the first move.”</p>
<p>“Huh? What do you mean?” Joe asks, confused at the sudden change in her demeanor, “Quynh?” he says again, turning around when she darts down the front porch steps, jogging over to the car that had just pulled up.</p>
<p><em>Oh</em>.</p>
<p>“Hi Joe,” Nicky says, closing the door to his car with a careful push, “I hope it’s alright that I came to visit. I heard from Quynh that you were moving back in today,” he’s smiling as he says this, moving around to the passenger side, opening the door and grabbing a covered Pyrex dish from the seat. “A housewarming gift of sorts,” he says, nudging the door closed with his hip as he holds the dish close to his chest. “And a thank you.”</p>
<p>As Nicky moves closer, the scent of cheese, vegetables and spices assaults his senses and he glances at the dish in Nicky’s hands, “A thank you?” he asks, stepping aside as Nicky moves up the front steps to stand beside Joe, holding the dish out.</p>
<p>Nicky shrugs somewhat sheepishly, “For the pizza, for listening, for being a great friend,” he says, “It’s lasagna so it’s nothing <em>too </em>fancy, and I’ve changed the recipe so there’s no meat, it’s just zucchini, bell pepper and carrots.” He smiles as Joe takes the dish, “I just wanted to make something to show my appreciation?” he phrases it like a question, fidgeting a little as he stands there.</p>
<p>Joe looks down at the dish and then back at Nicky, “Do you want to come inside? I can show you around, now that there’s no fire it might be easier to see where everything is,” he jokes, backing towards his front door.</p>
<p>He looks up and Quynh’s smirking across the yard, waving at him before she disappears into her own car.</p>
<p>“Oh, uh, I’d love to,” Nicky says, somewhat surprised, “Wait, wait let me,” he says, moving forward to open the door for Joe, “So you don’t drop the food,” he mumbles, and Joe smiles at him, taking in the slight flush on Nicky’s cheeks as he moves past him and into the house.</p>
<p>Nicky closes the door behind them and follows Joe into the kitchen, watching Joe place the dish on the counter and carefully peel the lid back, “I hope you like it,” he says, “I didn’t know your stance on dishes that are traditionally meat substituted into something without meat.”</p>
<p>Joe laughs quietly and leans over the lasagna, inhaling deeply, “Typically, I have a rotating list of things I make just to keep it fresh and so I don’t constantly eat the same thing,” he says. “But I am very open to dishes that have meat but are made without, especially by kind firefighters who know their way around a kitchen.”</p>
<p>Nicky looks both shocked and pleased, the flush that had just been barely visible earlier now fully visible in the low light of the kitchen, “<em>Oh</em>,” he says, “Well, maybe I’ll try a few other things too, just in case. Can’t have you losing interest in the meals you already eat regularly.”</p>
<p>Something warm and happy settles in the pit of Joe’s stomach and he looks across the counter at Nicky, standing there in his kitchen dressed in a plain blue t-shirt and a pair of soft looking jeans, his relaxed posture and the fading flush on his cheeks, the tentative way he’d flirted back, “Nicky,” he finally says, “Nicky, I have a question for you.”</p>
<p>Nicky tilts his head a little, “Yes, Joe?” he asks softly.</p>
<p>Joe places the lid back on the dish, moving around the counter to stand in front of Nicky, “My paintings will be in the gallery soon and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me,” he asks, trying not to fidget under Nicky’s stare. “The first night, they’re showing them I mean. There’ll be a lot of people there hopefully but—I just. I want you there.”</p>
<p>“Oh Joe,” Nicky says after several tense moments of silence, stepping closer, “I’d love to go with you,” he smiles, “When is it?”</p>
<p>“Six weeks from now,” Joe says letting out a soft exhale in relief, “I know you have your certification coming up and that it’s right after you get back, so if you want to rest instead, I’d understand.” He murmurs and Nicky hums, steps closer and takes Joe’s hand carefully between his.</p>
<p>“Joe,” Nicky says somewhat seriously, “I’m going to be very honest with you,” he looks up at him, squeezing his hand gently, “Going with you to your showing is something I really want to do with you,” he murmurs. “I want to do <em>more</em>, but I can’t focus on that right now, not with my certification coming up, there’s still so much and if I hope to make this an actual paying career, I can’t afford distractions.” He sighs, letting go of Joe’s hand with one of his so he can reach up, fingers hovering just next to Joe’s cheek, “You don’t know how bad I wish I were already through with the certification.” He mumbles, letting the tips of his fingers brush against Joe’s cheek.</p>
<p>Joe’s mouth feels dry as he leans into Nicky’s touch, eyes fluttering closed as he exhales loudly, “Nicky,” he mumbles. “I still have so much to do on my paintings, I have to get settled back in here,” he brings his other hand up and gently guides Nicky’s, so his palm is resting firmly against his cheek, “You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted to hear those words from you for <em>weeks,</em>” he admits with a soft laugh, turning his face until he’s nosing at Nicky’s palm. “Honestly, I think knowing that there’s <em>something </em>is going to make it harder.”</p>
<p>Nicky laughs, brushing his thumb along Joe’s temple for a moment, “I’ve never been one to hide things from someone I care about,” he whispers, “So I guess that’d make this my fault,” he teases softly, “But I think if we have an idea of <em>when</em>, it’ll be easier than the two of us <em>pining</em> over what could be if we’d just talk.”</p>
<p>Joe hums, closing his eyes as he brushes a barely there kiss against Nicky’s palm, “We are pretty good at talking,” he murmurs.</p>
<p>“We are,” Nicky agrees, and with what seems like a great effort, he pulls his hand away from Joe’s face with one last caress against his temple and sighs, “We’re very good at talking but it’s taken us this long to bring this up.”</p>
<p>Joe opens his eyes and steps back from Nicky, putting space between the two of them, “You’re right,” he says, “But we’ve been dealing with our own things. The chemistry is there, the feelings, letting it happen naturally is fine too.” He smiles at Nicky, “We don’t need distractions right now, either of us, but in a few weeks, you and I? We’ll go out on a proper date. There’s a nice restaurant not too far from the gallery I’ll be showing at. Dinner afterwards?”</p>
<p>Nicky smiles, big and beautiful and so bright that Joe feels his breath catch and his heart stutter, “It’s a date, Joe.”</p>
<p>======</p>
<p>Saturday brings a bright and sunny day, so unlike the previous week where it’d been rainy and cooler than usual—so Joe makes the most out of it; he packs a bag with his sketchbook and colored pencils, several different types of granola bars and a bottle of sunscreen.</p>
<p>He finds his favorite pair of shorts—the ones that aren’t quite too short yet, but they definitely show off the defined muscle of his thighs a bit more than his more conservative pairs; the tank top he pairs with it is a soft and faded pink and well, if he’s purposely dressing in clothes he <em>knows </em>shows off his best assets, then that’s for him and his own closet to know.</p>
<p>Now that he’s back in his own place, he can take the quiet back roads to his destination—the river goes through another town in the same county he lives in, another mill town, but even more so, all the houses half settled on a hill surrounding the old textile mill in the center and by that, is the river—and as he turns down the road that leads to both the power company and the river with its spanning hydroelectric dam, he can see Nicky and Nile’s cars parked off to the side and out of the way.</p>
<p>He pulls up next to Nile’s, and across the road is the path leading down to the shoreline and beyond that he can hear laughter and the vague strands of music, so he grabs his backpack and the tote full of water and Gatorade and heads off in the direction of the sounds.</p>
<p>“Joe!” Nile’s voice is loud over the music and she bounds up to him, dressed in a pair of jean shorts and a tank top, “Glad you could make it,” she says happily as she throws her arms around his shoulders. “It’s so good to see you again. How’s moving back in going? I heard you got the keys back, but I’ve had six on and this is my first day off.”</p>
<p>Joe laughs, wrapping his arms around Nile and squeezing her, “It’s so good to see you too, Nile,” he says, nuzzling her temple. “Moving in is going great, I’ve almost got the furniture the way I want it,” he unwraps his arms from around her and steps back, “Am I the last to show up?”</p>
<p>Nile hums and holds her hand out, easily taking the strap of the tote from him, “Nicky said you were grabbing drinks for us,” she says with a grin. “Appreciate that by the way. We were about to rock, paper, scissors on who had to go get drinks next.”</p>
<p>“Glad to help out where I can,” Joe says as he follows her down to the river. “So, you guys just come out here and relax then?” he asks, the further they go down the small incline, the louder the music gets, and Joe feels an undercurrent of excitement at the thought of seeing Nicky again.</p>
<p>“When we have time, yeah,” Nile says, “Like I said, I just got off of a 24 hour shift, and the rest of the crew have their own things going on…” she trails off. “But when the weather’s nice, we come out here, we’re in the south and in a small backwoods town that has basically <em>nothing </em>to do so we just come out and listen to music.” She motions towards where there’s several fishing rods propped up on variously sized fork shaped sticks, “Some of them fish, but most of us just like to hang out. We’re a family, y’know?”</p>
<p>Joe nods, shoving his hands into the pockets of his shorts as he comes to a stop by Nile who unloads the drinks from the bag and into a cooler full of ice and a few cans of cheap beer, “The drinks will cover the beer we’re technically not supposed to have around here,” she says with a little laugh.</p>
<p>“Oh?” Joe asks, raising an eyebrow, “That seems illegal,” he teases, “Aren’t you a first responder too?”</p>
<p>Nile shushes Joe, standing up and knocking their shoulders together, “You’re very funny,” she says, “Now go, go and find Nicky.”</p>
<p>Joe blinks, “I didn’t say anything about Nicky,” he says, “You’re my friend too. Best friends remember?” he asks, tilting his head.</p>
<p>“Uh huh,” Nile says, “I love you Joe, but you’ve been glancing around since we got here. Go find him, he headed down towards the bridge about ten minutes ago. Take him a drink and I don’t know, stare at each other with heart eyes or whatever it is you two are doing now.”</p>
<p>Joe makes a face at Nile, “You’re terrible,” he says, “I’m not dignifying you with a proper reply.” He says, leaning down and scooping two bottles of water up from the cooler. “Now if you’ll excuse me,” he waves a hand behind him as he turns to walk along the shore, heading in the direction of the bridge.</p>
<p>The walk is pleasant, the weather finally evening out into something not too unbearable—he has no doubts the water is probably still too cold to swim in, but even though it’s still winter, there’s green grass and bright sunshine most days than not now.</p>
<p>The sound of frogs and crickets echo around the entire river basin, the soft snap of twigs under his shoes as he continues further down towards the bridge, sunlight breaking through the light tree covering.</p>
<p>As he steps out from between two trees, he stops in his tracks, his heart stuttering in his chest because <em>there’s </em>Nicky, standing with his back, his <em>bare </em>back towards Joe, hands in the pockets of his sensible cargo shorts as he stares out over the water—the sun’s not quite at its highest point anymore, the golden light surrounding Nicky like some kind of halo.</p>
<p>Joe inhales deeply and takes a step forward, “Nicky,” he says.</p>
<p>Nicky turns, a bright smile breaking out across his face as he removes his hands from his pockets and moves towards Joe, stopping only when he’s mere inches from him, “Hello Joe,” he says back softly, reaching out momentarily to rest his hand on Joe’s hip, skin warm through Joe’s shorts. “I’m glad you could make it.”</p>
<p>Joe laughs softly, leaning into Nicky, “Like I would miss a chance to see you,” he says truthfully, his own hands coming up to rest against Nicky’s sides, palms pressed to warm, smooth skin, “Is this okay? Should we…?” he asks, tilting his head a little as Nicky looks up at him.</p>
<p>“I think this is okay,” Nicky says, curling his fingers into where the end of Joe’s shirt rests against his hip, “We both know that we’re waiting, no distractions—but I don’t think this sort of…closeness is a distraction,” he admits softly, eyes fluttering shut when Joe leans in the rest of the way, gently resting his forehead against Nicky’s.  </p>
<p>Joe stays quiet for a moment, gathering himself, “I’m nervous,” he whispers it like a secret in the air between them, “I haven’t done anything like this in a long time,” he feels Nicky’s grip tighten as Nicky’s other hand comes up to cup the back of his neck, thumb gentle against his hairline, “The last meaningful relationship I had was before my mama got sick,” he mumbles, “And it tapered away when she went into the hospital…too much stress, he’d said.” He sighs, “But I think I might be ready again. For this, for us. With you.”</p>
<p>Nicky’s hand slides around to the small of his back, pulling him closer, “<em>Joe</em>,” he whispers as their bodies press together from chest to shoulder to forehead, “I’m so glad you’re willing to give us a chance,” he murmurs with a little smile, “I feel…infinitely blessed that someone as bright and wonderful as yourself would want to give someone like me a chance.”</p>
<p>Joe pulls back finally, opening his eyes so he can look at Nicky properly, the curve of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth, the way the shadows play across his face, “Nicky, you have to know that I’ve been gone on you since that first time I invited you and Nile out to play pool with me and Booker,” he says soft, urgent, “Maybe before, but I didn’t really <em>acknowledge </em>it until then.” Joe slides his hands up Nicky’s sides, around to his back and up his shoulders, “I’m just glad we’re both here now,” he admits, palms gently cupping the sides of Nicky’s neck, thumb brushing the hinge of his jaw.  </p>
<p>Nicky sighs and leans into Joe’s touch, “I think I first realized when you came to my job that night,” he mumbles, “Seeing you after midnight, surprised to see me there,” he laughs a little, soft and teasing but not unkind, “It was sweet. You recognized my car and came inside because you wanted to be sure, right?” he tilts his head a little, pulling Joe close again. “Since meeting you, I’ve never felt as <em>seen </em>as I feel now.”</p>
<p>Joe laughs, somewhat embarrassed and shakes his head, “You’re so passionate and kind in what you do,” he says quietly, “And you’re so dedicated. To your job, to your volunteer work, to studying, to the people around you. I’d be so lucky to even have one tenths of your focus on me,” he murmurs, tilting Nicky’s head back a little, peering down into his eyes.</p>
<p>Nicky hums happily, “I think this is your lucky day because once I pass my certification, you’ll have all of my focus,” he says, and then pauses, biting at his lower lip, “Do you think a kiss would be too distracting?” he asks, glancing down at Joe’s mouth, “Or should we save that until after?”</p>
<p>“Definitely too distracting,” Joe says, pressing his thumb harder against Nicky’s jaw for a second, “Even if I really want to say fuck it and kiss you right now.” He teases, and then he slowly lets Nicky go, stepping back. “And I think we should change the subject or we’ll both forget about our little agreement.”</p>
<p>Nicky makes a sort of unhappy noise, “I suppose inviting you back to my place tonight to watch movies and bad television is a bad idea then, huh?” he jokes a little.</p>
<p>Joe winks at Nicky, “The worst idea,” he says, “But I appreciate your effort,” he reaches out and takes Nicky’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together, “I think we’ll be alright like this though,” he says, and then they’re walking, taking the narrow, winding path under the bridge and across to the other side of the river, talking softly among themselves.</p>
<p>By the time they get back to everyone else, at least several hours later, Nicky’s leaning into Joe’s shoulder as they walk, the sun slowly sinking over the horizon and Nile just grins knowingly at the two of them.</p>
<p>“Heart eyes, Joe!” She calls out, startling the two of them and Joe just frowns at her and flips her off with the hand not holding Nicky’s.</p>
<p>======</p>
<p>The next several weeks sees Joe stress painting during the day, a drop cloth covering most of the floor in his office, his hands near permanently paint stained as he goes through canvas after canvas, working towards the perfect composition for his final painting—his grief from losing his mama and from the fire had helped him through the first two—splotches of sad blues and purples marring the first canvas in a haunting silhouette of a woman, the second one done in angry reds and oranges and yellows, an undercurrent of destructive gray and brown in the edges of the shell of his burnt out house from months ago.</p>
<p>It’s only after Nicky’s dropped off another dish of lasagna, a somewhat comfort food, the tank top he’d been wearing showing the newly tanned skin of his shoulder does it hit Joe exactly what his third painting should be.</p>
<p>He heats up an extra large portion of the lasagna and makes himself a cup of tea, carrying the two of them into his office as he starts putting together the components of what his final piece will be.</p>
<p>There’s not really a theme according to the curator, the only instruction he’d been given was to paint something that means a lot to him, something <em>important </em>to him and, at the time, his grief had been.</p>
<p>Grief had always played a large role in his life later on, from his mama getting sick to his previous partner estranging himself from their relationship as things got rougher for Joe, as his mama had gone into intensive care, to the final breath she’d ever taken, to her quick burial after death.</p>
<p>It had all built up inside him, all festering and aching like a wound that would never heal and—somehow, moving to this small town, buying the house and living on his own for the first time in a while, he’d only felt lonelier. Booker had always been a constant presence in his life of course, but Booker had been dealing with his own issues and Joe hadn’t wanted to bother him.</p>
<p>The fire had thrown him into another loop, one that made him wonder if he was only destined for loss and grief.</p>
<p>He sits on the stool in front of the empty canvas and stares at it as he takes a hearty bite of his lasagna, the flavors blooming on his tongue like a flower, making him inhale sharply as he quickly places his plate down on the small side table near his easel, standing up and grabbing tubes of green and white and black paint before he sets to work mixing up several different shades of green, grabbing a blue to mix into something resembling the color of Nicky’s eyes when the sun had hit them just <em>right</em>.</p>
<p>As he smudges paint onto the canvas with different sized brushes, an almost manic state overtakes him as the space slowly fills with color, shaping into <em>something </em>so representative to how he feels currently, having a family in Nile, Booker, Nicky and the rest at the fire department, having something <em>other </em>than grief to latch onto and create from.  </p>
<p>It’s refreshing.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>“You didn’t have to bring anything,” Quynh says as she opens the door for him several nights later and Joe laughs nervously, carrying a wrapped package.</p>
<p>“Oh, this isn’t for Nicky, it’s for Andy,” he says somewhat sheepishly, “It took a while because I wanted to get it framed,” Joe shrugs, “I finally finished it but I had to send it off to be framed so. It took a little bit longer than I expected.”</p>
<p>Quynh’s eyes widen, “<em>Oh</em>,” she says, bouncing on her toes, “Andy’s going to be so happy,” she threads her arm through Joe’s and pulls him through the house, “Everyone’s in the backyard, we can give it to Andy there,” she grins.</p>
<p>As they spill out onto the patio, Joe’s eyes immediately find Nicky’s and he’s suddenly reminded of the covered canvas in his office back at home, full of greens and blues and the occasional pink and he feels something swell in his chest.</p>
<p>“Andromache!” Quynh calls out as she lets go of Joe and bounces away, “Come here darling, Joe has a gift for you.”</p>
<p>Andy looks confused and sort of apprehensive as she steps forward towards Joe, taking in the wrapped package in his arms, long and thin and rectangle.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry it’s taken me so long, Andy,” Joe says with an easy smile, holding it out towards her, “But I hope you enjoy it none-the-less.”</p>
<p>A light of recognition passes through Andy’s gaze for a moment as she takes the gift, carefully running her fingers over the paper; she licks her lips and carefully slides her fingers under the seal, gently loosening it from the glue and Joe holds his breath as he watches her unwrap it with the utmost of care.</p>
<p>Andy’s breath catches, her eyes widening as she runs her fingers carefully over the cool glass—a frame holding the same drawing Joe had started that very first day he’d been to the station, the single engine, her father’s pride and joy, the truck he’d fought for their station to have once upon a time when she was just a probie.</p>
<p>The reds are bright and layered, fading into the silver of the deck and the controls and gauges, the white lettering on the door and down the sides of the truck, proud and big, <em>her </em>station’s number.</p>
<p>“Joe,” She says, breathing in deep, “Wow, this is…” she trails off and Quynh gently takes it from her as she all but throws herself into Joe’s arms, hugging him tightly. “I don’t know if I can thank you enough,” she whispers, “I’ll cherish this forever.”</p>
<p>Joe wraps his arms around Andy, resting his cheek against her hair, “We’re family now, Andy,” he whispers with a little smile. “Just your reaction is thanks enough.”</p>
<p>It takes some time for Andy to pull away but then she does and she takes the framed drawing from Quynh, saying something about going inside to hang it up and then Quynh’s waving Joe off, nodding her head over to where Nicky’s seated on one of the patio couches.</p>
<p>“Hey you,” Joe says, sitting down beside him, reaching out immediately to take his hand, “When are you leaving for the capital?”</p>
<p>Nicky smiles and laces their fingers together, squeezing his hand tight, “Ah, so this is why Quynh kept grinning in my direction,” he says with a sigh and then he turns, pulling one of his legs under him so he’s facing Joe, “Hi Joe,” he whispers, bringing Joe’s hand up and brushing a gentle kiss against his knuckles, “I leave tomorrow evening, we’re going to get settled into the dorms and then we’ll start the certification the next morning.”</p>
<p>“I thought we agreed no kisses,” Joe says teasingly, feeling a flutter in his chest at Nicky’s lips against his skin. “It’s going to be a long week without you here, Nicky.”</p>
<p>Nicky grins at him, eyes mischievous, “Oh? A little kiss to your knuckles and you’re distracted already?” he asks, “Ever the romantic you are.”</p>
<p>Joe hums, leaning in close to Nicky, “I am very romantic,” he murmurs, fingers gently nudging Nicky’s chin upwards as he leans in close, their lips almost touching, “Just wait until you return, and I show up at the station with flowers.”</p>
<p>Nicky’s eyes flutter closed, and he shivers, “No one’s ever gotten me flowers before,” he mumbles, “I think you’re going to make me swoon, Joe.”</p>
<p>“Yusuf,” Joe whispers, nudging his nose gently against Nicky’s, “I don’t think I ever told you, but my name is actually Yusuf. Joe’s just a nickname.”</p>
<p>Nicky hums distractedly, “Yusuf,” he mumbles, tilting his head slightly, “That’s a lovely name,” he smiles, “Mine is Nicolò,” he adds a moment later. “But it’s easier for everyone to go by Nicky.”</p>
<p>Joe hums, nudges his nose against Nicky’s again, “I like Nicolò,” he murmurs, “Can I call you that?”</p>
<p>Nicky cracks an eye open, peering at Joe through his eyelashes, “As long as I can call you Yusuf.”</p>
<p>With a laugh, Joe finally pulls back, taking Nicky’s hand in his again, “I’m alright with that,” he says, “I like the way you say it,” he sighs, “Maybe wait until you get back though because I just <em>really </em>want to kiss you even more now.”</p>
<p>Nicky flushes and squeezes Joe’s hand, “A week, my love,” he promises softly.</p>
<p>Joe smiles brightly at Nicky and squeezes his hand back.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Nicky shows up on Joe’s doorstep the next day, carrying another dish and a tote bag with a bottle in it.</p>
<p>“I figured we could have lunch together before I have to leave,” Nicky says as a greeting as Joe opens the door dressed in paint streaked jeans and no shirt. “Oh.”</p>
<p>“Hi Nicky,” Joe says with a little laugh, opening the door wider for him to come inside, “I had a little painting accident, I was going to change. If you want to take the food to the kitchen, I’ll be in there in a moment?”</p>
<p>Nicky nods, somewhat dumbly and almost as if he were on autopilot, he walks to the kitchen.</p>
<p>Joe snorts to himself and closes the door, hurrying to his bedroom to change his jeans and put on a clean shirt.</p>
<p>“Smells delicious,” Joe says as he comes into the kitchen, pausing at the sight of Nicky standing over the stove, stirring something in a pot. He licks his lips and tries not to let himself imagine Nicky as a permanent fixture in his home.</p>
<p>Nicky hums and stops stirring the pot, turning around to face Joe, “Well, I figured, this will the be the last experimental meal I’ll bring you for at least a week. We should share it, I think. This town doesn’t have many decent places to eat so…” he trails off, turning back to the stove to hide the flush on his cheeks.</p>
<p>Joe finally walks fully into the kitchen, allowing himself a moment of weakness as he walks up behind Nicky and hugs him tightly, “I’m going to miss you,” he whispers, an echo of his words from yesterday.</p>
<p>“I’ll miss you too, Joe,” Nicky says, leaning back into Joe’s embrace for a moment, “Now go sit down, alright? It’ll be done in a moment.”</p>
<p>Joe presses a quick kiss to the back of Nicky’s head and pulls back, moving to go sit at the breakfast bar, watching Nicky move with ease around the kitchen to grab two plates and two glasses and plate the food.</p>
<p>“I know you don’t drink,” Nicky says very seriously, “But we can still get a little fancy with sparkling grape juice,” He grins a little, “You’ll still feel very sophisticated drinking it even though it’s alcohol free.”</p>
<p>Joe snorts softly and accepts the wine glass, “I am both touched and amused,” he says, “An Italian searching out Welch’s sparkling grape juice in Walmart.”</p>
<p>“It was on sale,” Nicky says solemnly, taking a sip. “While it’s not my favorite thing, I do have to admit I can appreciate the bubbles.”</p>
<p>Joe shakes his head fondly, “You’re great,” he says with a sigh, and lunch smells great too, I’m glad you came over.”</p>
<p>Nicky pushes some of his food around on the place, biting his lower lip, “I wanted to see you before I left, wanted to spend some time with you first. Before I’m without you for a week.”</p>
<p>“We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?” Joe asks, reaching out and resting his hand over Nicky’s, “We haven’t even started really dating yet and we’ve hit the honeymoon stage.”</p>
<p>A soft laugh leaves Nicky’s mouth, “We’re going to be pretty sickening once I get back,” he says knowingly. “But I’ll enjoy every moment of it.”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>After their lunch, Nicky and Joe do dishes side by side silently, their time together getting shorter and shorter, “It’s only a week,” Nicky murmurs when Joe’s showing him to the door. “I’ll text when I can, alright?”</p>
<p>Joe smiles, cupping Nicky’s jaw, “I have no doubt you will,” he says softly, leaning in to rest their foreheads together, “Call me when you get there, alright? I want to hear your voice and know you’re safe.”</p>
<p>Nicky hums softly, closing his eyes, “I will,” he says with a heavy sigh. “I really need to leave now. I have my things packed already and, in my car, but it’s a several hour drive.”</p>
<p>“Of course,” Joe murmurs, pulling back just enough to press their lips together, quick and easy, “For the road. An incentive to blow everyone out of the park and come back to me certified.”</p>
<p>The flush on Nicky’s cheeks spreads half down his throat, and Joe briefly wonders how <em>low </em>it goes but quickly erases that thought when Nicky hugs him properly, tightly.</p>
<p>And although they’re not really dating <em>yet</em>, he still feels Nicky’s absence as he watches him drive away.</p>
<p>======</p>
<p>The week is filled with texts and longing and periods of silence that Joe fills by hanging out at the station with Nile and Dizzy and Jay, the three of them doing a good job of keeping Joe distracted by the Nicky shaped hole in his heart.</p>
<p>Joe manages three new paintings in the meantime, an abstract of Nile and Dizzy washing the ambulance, bright colors mixed with neutral tones and whites, something he presents to Nile and as he catalogues the absolute joy on her face, he feels the warm and happy feeling of <em>home </em>settle inside him.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>There’s a steady knock on Joe’s door and Joe’s confused, because it’s almost ten at night and everyone he knows is either asleep or at work, but, because his mama <em>had </em>raised him right, he goes to open it, not prepared for the sight of <em>Nicky </em>standing there.</p>
<p>“Surprise,” Nicky says, sounding tired and hoarse all at once, “I probably smell like smoke still, but I couldn’t leave fast enough, and I drove straight here because—”</p>
<p>Joe can’t help himself; he steps forward and gathers Nicky into his arms, their mouths searching each other out blindly and when their lips <em>finally </em>meet, it feels even <em>more </em>like coming home.</p>
<p>“Come inside,” Joe mumbles, sometime later with kiss swollen lips, barely pulling his lips away from Nicky’s, “I’ve missed you.”</p>
<p>Nicky exhales shakily, “I’m so happy to be here,” he mumbles, “So happy to be home,” he says as he and Joe shuffle inside, barely breaking apart. “I’m also very tired and would like to keep kissing you at the same time.” He adds.</p>
<p>Joe laughs, feels <em>tears </em>build up in the corners of his eyes as he presses his lips firmly against Nicky’s, “Think you can manage long enough to get a shower? If it’s not too forward, we can go to bed after. Just to sleep.”</p>
<p>“And kiss,” Nicky says, nuzzling Joe’s beard. “I really want to keep kissing you until I fall asleep.”</p>
<p>After showering, Nicky’s dressed in Joe’s clothes, a pair of sweatpants that stretch ridiculously across his thighs and a t-shirt and together, they collapse into Joe’s bed, Nicky settling half on top of Joe as their lips meet once more.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>“I hope this wasn’t too much of a distraction,” Nicky mumbles the next morning as he rests against Joe while they wait for the coffee maker to finish. “It didn’t feel right to go back to my apartment when all I wanted to do was see you.”</p>
<p>Joe wraps an arm around his shoulders, holding him tight, “You’re welcome here anytime,” he murmurs and thinks about the second key burning a hole through the bottom of his sock drawer, something he’d had made in a fit of Nicky-less panic. “I’m glad you came, and no you’re not a distraction, well, you <em>are</em>, but I’ve finished the paintings so all I need to do now is show up.”</p>
<p>Nicky makes a soft noise against Joe’s bare shoulder, “Can we forget the coffee and go back to bed for a little bit?” he mumbles around a yawn, “I think this past week has caught up with me.”</p>
<p>Joe smiles and turns the coffee maker off before guiding Nicky back to the bedroom—Nicky who’s asleep within seconds as soon as his head hits the pillow and Joe can’t help himself, he grabs his sketchbook and starts sketching the curve of Nicky’s cheek against his pillow.</p>
<p>======</p>
<p>“Are you nervous?” Quynh asks, straightening Joe’s bowtie up, grinning as she ruffles his curls, making them even bouncier, “Because if you are, you shouldn’t be. I haven’t even seen the art for the showcase, but I know it’s fantastic.”</p>
<p>“I’m not nervous,” Joe says, and for once, he’s surprised to realize that he <em>isn’t</em>, because he’s here, surrounded by his family and Nicky, “But I’m once again reminding you it’s not a <em>showcase</em>.”</p>
<p>Quynh waves him off, “In time,” she says, somewhat vaguely before she flounces off to find Andy and Joe bites his lip in a moment of nerves before turning and heading towards where his exhibit is still covered.</p>
<p>“Are you ready to show everyone your art?” Nicky asks as he falls into step beside Joe, grabbing his hand and swinging it between them as they walk.</p>
<p>Joe squeezes Nicky’s hand, “I think so,” he says, “I’ve been working on these for months,” they come to a stop in front of the paintings, all covered, “The first two were easier because of the place I was in when I started them, the…grief I felt made it easy to throw it on canvas. The third one was elusive, I had no idea what I wanted to do with it, there’s really no theme, just, something important to you and well.” He shrugs a little and pulls his hand away from Nicky’s, moving forward to reveal the pieces one by one.</p>
<p>He hears Nicky’s sharp inhale at the first one, at the grief that permeates the entire painting and with a slightly unsteady hand, he pulls the cloth off of the second one, the climax of all of his anger and grief thrown into one piece of art.</p>
<p>Nicky shuffles behind him and Joe bites his lip as he grips the cloth covering the third one and gently uncovers it.</p>
<p>In the abstract lines, there’s a backdrop of trees of browns and greens and the blue of the sky, there’s the murky brown, gray, blue path of the river taking up most of the bottom of the painting, and in the middle of it all, the silhouette that Joe had agonized over for the longest time, wide shoulders and the curl of dark hair against the back of a slightly pink neck.</p>
<p>The card attached to the bottom corner of the canvas states the name, <em>Happiness</em>, although corny and cheesy, anytime Joe looks at it, even as he was carefully laying out shapes and abstracts, the undercurrent of happiness running through him kept him going the entire time.</p>
<p>“<em>Joe</em>,” Nicky whispers behind him and Joe steps down away from the paintings, close to Nicky, gently grabbing his hand.</p>
<p>“You make me so happy, Nicky,” Joe says softly, bringing his hand up to press a kiss to his knuckles, “Everything you do, everything you are, I want to be a part of that. For as long as you’ll let me.”</p>
<p>Nicky brings his other hand up, pressing his knuckles against his lips for a moment and inhales, “This sounds an awful lot like a marriage proposal,” he mumbles, and Joe laughs quietly, reaching into his pocket.</p>
<p>“Not quite,” he says, pulling a key out of his pocket, “But some day maybe we’ll be at that point,” he presses the key into Nicky’s hand. “I meant what I said. Come over whenever you want. I’ll be glad to have you there. We can even clean a drawer out for you. Make some space in the closet.”</p>
<p>Nicky presses his lips together and then surges up to press a slightly off center kiss to Joe’s mouth, broad palm cupping Joe’s cheek.</p>
<p>“I want you to be with me always,” Nicky mumbles when they part, resting their foreheads together, “Joe, will you be my boyfriend?”</p>
<p>Joe laughs, happy and loud and wraps his arms tight around Nicky, swinging him around in circles as he mumbles several yesses against Nicky’s mouth.</p>
<p>When they pull apart, Nile, Andy, Quynh, Dizzy, Jay and several others from the fire department are all standing around them, looking at them with looks of both fondness and exasperation as Joe presses one more kiss to Nicky’s mouth and then pulls away, “Wait right here,” he says.</p>
<p>Nicky raises an eyebrow as Joe hurries off and when he glances over at Nile she’s grinning almost manically, and before he can ask <em>what</em>’<em>s</em> so funny, Joe’s returning, carrying a large bouquet of roses in a soft pink. “Joe?”</p>
<p>Joe rolls his eyes, “I told you I was going to bring you flowers and because you surprised <em>me </em>by coming home early, I didn’t have time to do it then.” he says teasingly, watching as Nicky carefully takes them in hand, wrinkling his nose slightly at the smell.</p>
<p>“Joe, you’re definitely a romantic,” Nicky says with a fond shake of his head, cradling them against his chest. “I love them, thank you.”</p>
<p>Joe hums and moves close, wrapping his arm around Nicky’s shoulders, “I have about forty minutes left before I can leave,” he murmurs into his ear. “And then we can go get dinner,” he smiles, “I made reservations.”</p>
<p>Nicky hums happily and leans into Joe, “Sounds wonderful,” he mumbles, turning his head and pressing a kiss to Joe’s mouth. “Now tell us about your art, Joe.”</p>
<p>======</p>
<p>Joe watches as Nicky carefully opens the manilla envelope, biting his lip as he slides a sheaf of papers out, along with a new ID card.</p>
<p>“Is that the certificate?” Joe asks, leaning over Nicky’s shoulder to see it better, the white crisp paper with the official seal in the bottom right corner. “Oh Nicolò,” he murmurs when he feels Nicky’s shoulders shake a little. “What’s wrong?”</p>
<p>The ID card is shiny and brand new, the back of it detailing his certification from the fire academy and his ability to fight interior fire and Joe picks it up, carefully studying the photo of Nicky, his hair brushed neatly, the white uniform shirt that’s visible is crisp and clean and Joe feels a strong fondness.</p>
<p>“Nicolò?” he asks again.</p>
<p>Nicky shakes his head, “I’m just so happy right now,” he murmurs, rubbing his fist across his eyes, “I didn’t think this moment would ever come. I can take the next step, I can help people even <em>more</em> now,” he finally turns and looks at Joe, “And through all of this, I’ve had you.”</p>
<p>Joe hums and steps forward, “And you’ll have me wherever this piece of paper takes you,” he promises softly, pressing a kiss to Nicky’s mouth.</p>
<p>Nicky rests their foreheads together and Joe closes his eyes, “Luckily, I’m not going anywhere but right here,” he teases softly.</p>
<p>Joe wraps Nicky in his arms, spinning the two of them around the kitchen, humming a song he’d heard on the radio into Nicky’s ear.</p>
<p>After all of the heartache and grief, he finally felt as if he’d reached a turning point, that point that Booker’s therapist had said happens when you finally manage to work through your previous traumas and you’re more open minded to change. That point where you’re ready to start <em>living </em>again.</p>
<p>And with Nicky in his arms and the rest of the station by their side, Joe <em>definitely </em>felt like living again.</p>
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